Blessed Be Providence
by Lee Black
Summary: And, thanks to a choice made by the Potter family and some rather brilliant acting skills from a mysterious Russian man, an infant's life changes overnight. AU.
1. Chapter 1

This plot bunny snuck up on me again, so I started working on it again.

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

**Chapter 1**

The sweltering July heat was enough to cause Albus Dumbledore to start to sweat even through his numerous Cooling Charms. He looked down at the dark wicker basket he was carrying and sighed, feeling incredibly burdened with what he was about to do. They'd all agreed that this was the best option - not only for the child sleeping in the basket for the greater good. Still, he was oddly uneasy completing this task.

He looked up and down the sidewalk again to make sure that no one was watching him. A pointless move, he knew, as it was nearly three in the morning and everyone was asleep. If not by natural means, then by the charm he'd put in place when he'd first arrived on the street.

One house in particular for him: the fourth house down on the left side of the street. Without saying anything, he made his way toward the house.

A grey tabby cat ran up to him and started winding between his legs, meowing loudly.

"I'm taking care of this, Minerva," he said with a smile at the cat.

She stopped winding between his legs and started purring loudly.

"Don't worry about this," Albus said. "Go back to safety and I'll meet you at the swingset once this is all taken care of."

The cat meowed again before bounding down the street in the same direction that she'd come.

Once the cat disappeared from sight, Albus continued toward the house in question. When he reached the front of the house, he sighed again and set the basket down on the front step.

The child inside the basket watching him with unnervingly intelligent green eyes.

"I am truly sorry about this, my boy," Albus said quietly as he watched the child. "But the decision has been made and we've all agreed that this is the best choice to keep your family safe. You will be with your extended family and they will take good care of you until I return."

The babe, as he was a few days shy of a year old, said nothing. Instead, he continued to watch Albus with his eerily bright green eyes.

"I'll collect you once it's safe for you to be brought back into our world," he said, taking a step back from the step. "Until then, you'll be watched over and loved by the Muggles in your family," he added before knocking on the door and canceling out the sleeping charm on the street.

A few seconds later, a quiet stirring in the house told him what he wanted to hear and he headed toward the playground about two blocks away.

"Minerva?" he asked, and the cat ran up to him. He picked her up and the two of them disappeared seconds later with a barely noticeable 'pop'.

About five minutes later, the door of the house opened to reveal a half-asleep woman with more than a passing resemblance to a horse. She frowned, looking around before noticing the large basket on her front step. She peaked into the basket, gasped, and slammed the door shut.

The door opened again to reveal her husband, this man resembling a walrus. He looked in the basket and scowled deeply. "Oh, this is not happening," he muttered darkly. "You're going straight to the orphanage, brat." He went back into the house for a moment, coming out wearing a coat and carrying the keys to his company car.

His wife followed him out and carried the basket to the car, shoving it, and the child, into the front passenger's seat of the car. "Don't be gone for too long, Vernon," she said, kissing the man.

"Don't worry, Pet," the man said with a sleepy smile at his wife. He got into the car and started up the Mercedes. "I shouldn't be gone more than an hour. Go on back to sleep and I'll be be back soon."

She nodded and watched as he backed the car out of the driveway, going back inside when the car headed down the street.

...

Vernon drove for about twenty minutes before coming to a stop at a traffic light.

Before the light turned green, he was startled when a man appeared next to his car seemingly from thin air. The man looked around, a frantic look about him, and he turned to the car, suddenly pounding on Vernon's window.

Vernon scowled and wound the window down enough for him to glare at the man. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"My son," the man said hysterically. "I'm looking for my son!"

"Your son?" Vernon asked, calming slightly. He'd almost lost Dudley at the zoo, so he could understand a bit about what the man had to be feeling.

"My wife was killed and they stole my son," the stranger said, tears welling up in his eyes. Vernon easily picked up on the man's Russian accent as he spoke. "I followed them here, but I can't find them anymore. Please, have you seen my son?"

The nearby streetlight and the traffic lights shed some light on the man and Vernon took a moment to look the man over before answering his question. The man was wearing a well-worn leather jacket and very worn, dark blue jeans, with a dirty grey t-shirt. He had black, tangled hair that seemed to be about chin-length, and it looked like he hadn't had the chance to shave for a number of days. His skin was pale, but the look in his eyes worried Vernon the most. They were dark and sunken, but there was a wild panic and a glint of insanity that had Vernon absently wondering why he didn't keep a gun in the car for safety.

He hesitated for a moment before meeting the man's nearly hysterical gaze again. "What does your son look like?" he asked.

"He's a year old in a week," the man said, furiously wiping his unshed tears away from his eyes and tugging roughly on the sleeves of his leather jacket. "He's got the most beautiful bright green eyes and black hair," he said. "Please, tell me you've seen him?"

Vernon hesitantly stepped out of the car. "Stay back from me," he instructed, and the man immediately took a step back from Vernon, making sure that he was out of arm's reach. "There was a boy left on my door in a basket, and he matches what you told me your son looks like," he said hesitantly.

The man smiled weakly, and his knees appeared to almost buckle underneath him. "Really?" he asked. "Is there, I mean, there's not - is he-?" His voice seemed to fail him.

Vernon shook his head. "He didn't look hurt," he said. "And there's no blood anywhere in the basket, so I don't think he's been hurt at all. This way," he said, walking around to the other side of the car.

The man followed him, though he still stayed at something of a distance, and, when Vernon opened the passenger's door and the man caught sight of the child, he collapsed to his knees. "He's alive," he whispered in English before saying something in Russian. It seemed almost like he was praying.

He watched the man uncomfortably for a moment before taking the child out of the basket and quickly handing him to the man.

"Thank you," the man said, clutching the child to his chest.

Vernon nodded brusquely. "Did you want the basket or the letter that was with the boy?" he asked, his tone coming across gentler than he'd expected.

"No," the man said, standing up and looking only at the child. "Keep them, trash them, burn them for all I care. I don't want those things anywhere near my son," he said.

The child giggled as the man murmured something in Russian and reached out to grab at the loose strands of the man's hair. The man smiled through tears and bowed his head so the boy could grab at more of his hair, and the child laughed again.

That interaction alone had Vernon convinced that the child belonged to the man. He reached into his car and pulled out the small stack of money that he kept in the car's glovebox in case of an emergency. "Here," he said, handing the money to the man. "This isn't all that much, but it should be enough to put you up in a hotel for a few nights," he said.

The man nodded his thanks and put the money in his pocket, but said nothing to Vernon, instead murmuring in Russian to the child.

Vernon shrugged to himself, feeling a bit awkward just watching the man and his child, and got back into his car. He turned it around and drove back toward his house, not wanting to look back at the man and his son.

As soon as Vernon turned a corner away from the reunited pair, the man stood up, all signs of panic or hysteria replaced with a calm, collected mask and a smug smirk. He looked down at the child in his arms and chuckled as the child giggled and reached his small arms up as though to grab at the man's hair again. He snapped his fingers and Vernon's car exploded, taking out a good chunk of the nearby houses.

The child laughed again and the man dropped the small stack of bills on the ground by his feet. He looked down at the money and murmured something in Russian. The money went up in flames, leaving nothing behind.

"Let's go home, kid," the man said in Russian before disappearing the both of them with a loud 'crack'.

They reappeared seconds later in a small, dusty sitting room.

The man looked around before sighing slightly. He was away for a few years and the house elf let the place fall all to hell. He made a note to himself to find a more competent house elf once he had the time to resettle in his family home.

The paint on the wall was cracked and peeling, and the few pieces of furniture in the room were covered in thick layers of dust. There was a large crack in the window across from the fireplace and the few remaining books on the bookshelf looked as though they'd fall apart the moment he tried to touch them.

A barely audible 'pop' and an immense rush of power that knocked the air from his lungs caught the man's attention and he immediately fell to his knees, taking care not to harm the child. He bowed his head, looking only at the child in his arms as one of the doors to the sitting room opened with an annoying, overly loud creaking sound.

A man with more than a passing resemblance to a serpent walked silently into the room. He looked around and scowled at the sight of the room. "Your home is falling apart," he hissed quietly, and the disapproving tone of his voice was not missed by the other.

The Russian man hesitated briefly, not entirely sure what to say for a moment. "Forgive me, my lord. I haven't been home in a number of years and the house elf has clearly taken that as a sign that it can slack off," he said, chancing a glance up at the serpentine man.

His lord was silent for a long moment before stepping even closer to the Russian man. "You have never disappointed me before," he hissed in a pleasant enough tone of voice. "Do not start now."

"I wouldn't dream of it, my lord," the man said quietly, holding the boy a bit closer to him. He bowed his head and closed his eyes when he felt his lord's fingers card almost gently through his hair. "I did as you instructed, my lord," he said hesitantly before falling silent for a long moment. "I would request one thing, though, my lord, if it were possible," he said, opening his eyes and taking a deep breath.

The child stared silently up at him before gurgling quietly in his baby language.

His lord almost gently grabbed the man's chin and pulled it up so that their gazes met. "I will not make you any promises," he said. "But what is your request?"

The man said nothing for a brief moment. "Allow the child to live, my lord," he said.

"And what, exactly, would you have me do with a child?" his lord asked.

"If you would allow it, my lord, I could raise him as my own. I know how to care for a child his age," he said, looking back down at the child.

The serpentine man frowned, glancing at the child. "Yes, I remember. Your wife and child. How long has it been?" he asked.

"They were killed eight years ago," the man said, staring down at the child in his arms.

The boy was watching him silently, and when he noticed the man looking down at him again, he grinned and reached his hands up to the man, gurgling quietly in his baby language.

"Someone killed them just a few hours before I was sent to Azkaban, my lord," he added quietly.

The serpentine man was silent for a long moment. "What sparked your sudden interest in the child?" he asked.

"I realize that I don't know why you want the child dead, my lord, but I do not want to believe that it is so necessary for the blood of this boy to contribute to your rule. Apart from that, I suppose he reminds me a bit of my daughter when she was a baby."

The serpentine man smirked. "And if I ordered you to kill the boy with my next breath?" he asked.

"Then I would be duty-bound as your followers to kill the child, my lord, but I cannot say that I wouldn't regret it," he said. "I have asked little of you in the past, my lord," he said after a moment of hesitation. "All I am asking now is that you allow me to keep the child."

Both men looked down at the child, not saying anything.

Finally, the serpentine man made a quiet noise similar to a sigh. "I suppose I will allow you this," he said in a quiet, almost reluctant hiss.

"My lord?" he asked, looking up at the serpentine man.

"You may raise him as your son, and I will not interfere unless I decide that the boy is a threat." He tugged none too gently on the man's chin. "Stand up."

The man did as told, offering the child in his arms a minute smile, and watched his lord's every move.

"I will even go so far as to offer you my assurance that if I decide the boy is too much of a threat, I will not order you to kill him. Instead, the child will die by my hands, and my hands alone," he said.

"Thank you, my lord," the man said.

The serpentine man looked down at the boy, who watched him for a long moment. Finally, he stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry at him before giggling quietly.

The Russian man smirked slightly, though he did his best to hide it when he noticed his lord staring irately at the child, who was wholly unaffected.

"Raise the boy as your son," his lord instructed. "I will be looking in on the boy's progress, and I expect nothing but the best from you."

"Of course, my lord."

The serpentine man took a step back. "And the next time I visit your family Manor, I expect it to be presentable," he said, motioning at the moldy, dust-covered furniture in the room and the cracked and peeling paint. "I expect it to be befitting the Family Lord that you are, and safe for your new Heir. He will need a new name, as well."

"Of course, my lord. As you wish," he said, looking back down at the child in his arms.

The serpentine man smirked at the picture the two of them made before disappearing with another barely audible 'pop' and another small gust of power that again knocked the air from the man's lungs.

He looked around the room and sighed before calling out for his house elf.

...

Meanwhile, on the other side of the continent and across a channel, James Potter and his wife Lily left their house with their heads held high, trying not to think about what they'd agreed to do.

They ignored the stares and the badly hidden whispering as they made their way into the Hog's Head Tavern in Hogsmeade and say in a booth across from the esteemed Albus Dumbledore for a one-on-two meeting with the man.

Lily looked over at James as they made themselves comfortable and placed their orders with the waitress. She seemed more confident in her choice than her husband, and she offered him a small smile.

"How are you two doing?" Albus asked.

James watched his wife for a long moment, returning her smile and taking her hand before looking back at his former Headmaster and current Leader. "We're doing as well as you'd expect, I suppose. It wasn't easy, making the decision, but it's made and there isn't any point in regretting our choices."

"And the other child, JJ?" he asked.

"He's recovered better than we'd hoped, actually," Lily said quietly. "He gets a bit lonely sometimes, but he seems almost happier now that we're not forced to split our attention between two boys," she said. "And his accidental magic sparks quite frequently. He's showing his potential earlier than either James or I did."

Albus watched them for a moment. "You're still not entirely convinced, though," he said. It wasn't a question.

James squeezed her hand reassuringly as Lily nodded. "We know we made the right choice, but it still doesn't make that fact any easier to live with. He was our son, Albus, and we broke our twins apart to make sure that the prophecy child stays safe," he said.

Albus nodded morosely, but said nothing for a moment. "I realize that I was the one who made the suggestion to you two in the first place, but it wasn't easy for me to bring it up at all," he said. "But you were the family in his sights, and your eldest twin was going to die. Keeping them separated will not only ensure that the boys are kept safe, but it ensures that you two are kept safe as well."

Lily's free hand strayed down to rest on her stomach, and James smiled more fully when he noticed that action. "It won't be just us and JJ for too much longer," Lily said. "And because of our decision, JJ and our newest child are going to be safe as they grow up."

"Things are going to get much better within the next few months," James said, looking over at Albus.

Albus nodded again and sent the young couple a reassuring smile. "Oh, I have no doubt about that, James, my boy," he said, his blue eyes twinkling madly.


	2. Chapter 2

This plot bunny snuck up on me again, so I started working on it again.

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

**Chapter 2: Four Years Later**

"Papa!" a young boy called as he ran down the hall. "I did what you told me!"

Antonin walked out of his bedroom and looked down at the son he'd raise for the past four years. "You put on your best dress robes and you brushed your hair in less than five minutes, Harrison?" he asked, smirking when he noticed that the boy had his shoulder length hair put up in pigtails. He knelt down and tugged lightly on one of the pigtails. "Who did you let do this to your hair?" he asked.

Harrison grinned and pointed back toward his bedroom. "Auntie Bella said if I didn't let her do this, she'd make my hair look like hers for a month," he said as Bellatrix Lestrange walked out of her bedroom and sent a mocking little wave in Antonin's direction.

"Ask the boy why I gave him that choice," she said before sauntering down the stairs and heading to the dining room for lunch.

Antonin looked back at his adopted son. "Harrison?"

"I asked if she walked through a tornado before she came to visit from her sister's house," Harrison said as Antonin carefully pulled the ponytails out of his hair.

"Turn around," the man said. He transfigured the ties into a ribbon and secured Harrison's elbow-length hair into a low ponytail. "Do you remember what I've told you about these kinds of visits?" he asked when Harrison turned back to face him again.

Harrison nodded. "When Auntie Bella says something dumb, I pretend I didn't hear her," he said. "And if you clear your throat, then I do my best to forget what she said."

Antonin grinned. "Yes, but what about when the lord comes to visit?" he asked.

"Then I stay quiet until he asks me a question, and I try not to stare at him. And if he talks to me, then I stay respectful and don't say anything more than the answer to his question," he said after a moment of thought. "Right?"

Antonin nodded and adjusted Harrison's robe a bit before straightening himself.

Both Harrison and Antonin looked down the staircase when they heard Bellatrix shrieking at their sole house elf about some nuance or other that irritated her.

Antonin sighed heavily and looked down at his son. "Are you ready for this?" he asked.

Harrison nodded, smirking a bit. "Can we have chicken soup for lunch before the lord comes?" he asked, walking down the stairs with his father.

"I suppose, as long as you try not to make too much of a mess," Antonin said. "Just don't get carried away with the charm. You'll ruin another pair of good robes, and neither of us are patient enough to shop for new ones." He smirked a bit when he noticed his son staring at the Dark Mark on his left forearm. It was normally covered by his robes, but he'd decided against wearing robes this morning, choosing instead a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain black shirt that left his mark clearly displayed, along with a few of his other tattoos. He may despise Muggles, but their blue jeans were quite comfortable, and they were the closest things to pants that he could wear without discomfort since his years in Azkaban. "What fascinates you about my mark this time?" he asked.

Harrison was silent for a long moment. "When can I get one of my own?" he asked curiously.

Antonin smirked - this had become something of a regular question from Harrison. "If you get the chance, and my lord permits the question, see what he says," he said. "I will stand by whatever my lord tells you," he added after a moment.

"But you don't want me to get one," Harrison said, picking up on the minute hesitance in his adoptive father's tone of voice. "Why not?" he asked.

"Not for a number of years, yet," Antonin replied. "This is not an easy mark to get, and you don't need to experience that amount of pain when you're as young as you are. Have you been practicing your magic?" he asked.

Harrison nodded. "Auntie Bella dared me to summon an orange from the kitchen yesterday and I did it," he said with a grin. "I broke her nose, but I did it," he said.

Antonin smirked. "Well done," he said. "Now, go rescue the house elf from Bellatrix and make sure that it knows what we're having for lunch this afternoon."

Harrison grinned and ran into the kitchen.

Bellatrix had apparently derived all the entertainment she could from berating the house elf, at least for the moment. She was in the smaller dining room, nibbling on a small chocolate eclair. There was a large platter filled almost to overflowing with chocolate eclairs in front of her. "Harry," she said with a knowing smile. "Care for a chocolate?" she asked.

The six year old brightened at the possibility of chocolate for lunch. He wandered into the dining room and crawled onto the chair next to his more than slightly insane godmother. "Why are you having chocolate eclairs for lunch?" he asked.

"Because they taste wonderful, Harrison, my love," Bellatrix said with a grin, putting a few eclairs on a small plate and handing it to him. "What were you going to have for lunch?"

"Chicken soup," Harrison said with a grin before he bit into the eclair and chocolate cream smeared onto his face. "With animal crackers in the soup."

"Animal crackers?" Bellatrix asked.

Harrison nodded as Antonin walked into the dining room, but didn't say anything else as he bit into another eclair.

Antonin took a seat at the head of the table, next to Harrison, and eyed the two of them oddly. "I taught him how to charm the crackers so that the predators eat their prey," he said quietly. He summoned himself a glass of white wine and watched as Bellatrix tried to steal an eclair from Harrison's plate, only for Harrison to slap his hand. He smirked at her offended shriek. "I thought you wanted to have chicken soup for lunch, Harrison," he said.

Bellatrix laughed as she plucked an eclair off of the platter in front of her, Harrison's offense apparently forgiven. "No self-respecting six year old turns down the prospect of chocolate sweets for lunch," she said. "If you didn't have a poplar elm up your arse, you might join us," she said with a nasty smirk.

"What's self-respecting?" Harrison asked with half an eclair in his mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Harrison," Antonin said sharply, glaring at Bellatrix.

Bellatrix just laughed again, completely unaffected by Antonin's glare, and looked over at Harrison. "Self-respecting means that you're going to grow up to be just like your father," she said. "Uptight and unable to have any fun whatsoever."

"I beg your pardon?" Antonin asked with a cold smirk. "I know quite well how to have fun."

"Yes, but not in any way that you'd allow your son to join you for a number of years," Bellatrix said. "I may be the mad one between the two of us, but I know the sort of activities that you won't allow your son to participate in with you," she said with a smirk. "At least not for a number of years yet."

Antonin just scowled.

"Will I grow up to be like Papa Anton or like the father who sent me away?" Harrison asked almost hesitantly. He ignored the argument that Antonin and Bellatrix were about to start. Their little spats weren't that uncommon, and if he asked about them, he knew he'd get no answer.

Antonin's scowl deepened and he looked over at Harrison. "The man and woman who sent you away from our world for their safety and that of the family that they decided to have without you. They do not deserve to be referred to as your mother and father," he said coldly. "They may have given birth to you, but they gave you up. They are no more your family than Bellatrix is my sister."

"I'm hurt," Bellatrix said quietly.

"And you rescued me from Muggles who were going to throw me way as soon as they found me," Harrison said. He smirked at Bellatrix as he snatched the last eclair off the platter in front of her. "Auntie Bella, will you stay here for dinner, or are you going to have to go back to your house?" he asked.

Bellatrix looked over at Antonin, who smirked knowingly without saying anything. He took a sip of his wine and watched his son's godmother carefully.

"Please, Auntie Bella?" Harrison asked, adopting the puppy-eyed expression that worked on his aunt every time. "You can have chicken soup with crackers if you want," he said.

Bellatrix was silent for a long moment. "I suppose it might be interesting to see the crackers eat each other," she mused quietly after a moment.

Harrison grinned widely.

A moment later, the front door of the Manor opened and closed quietly, and that quiet sound caught the attention of the two adults in the dining room.

Antonin stood up and looked sharply over at Bellatrix. "Clean my son up and then pretend you're a decent woman with the proper etiquette training," he said sharply, setting his glass of of wine down on the table as he stood up and left the dining room. "Prove to me that the Black family hasn't fallen completely."

The once serpentine man known as the Dark Lord walked into the hallway, watching through an emotionless mask as his follower stepped out of his dining room and bowed to him. "Your house is much more up to my standards since my last visit, Antonin," he said. "How have you been?"

The boy has certainly been keeping me busy, my lord," Antonin said as Harrison ran out from the kitchen. The boy paled rather remarkably when he noticed the Dark Lord standing just a few feet in front of him. He hid himself behind Antonin's legs, not bothering to hide from the Dark Lord. "Speak of the devil," he murmured as Harrison peaked at the Dark Lord from behind Antonin.

"This is the boy?" the Dark Lord asked.

Antonin nodded. He reached behind himself and started to gently pull Harrison to stand in front of him. "Don't be rude, Harrison," he said quietly, though the underlying threat in his voice wasn't missed by either the Dark Lord or Harrison.

The Dark Lord shook his head slightly, and Antonin looked up at him, a mildly confused look on his face.

"My lord?" he asked.

"We will have that conversation once we are comfortable in the sitting room," the man said, moving into the sitting room without another word.

Bellatrix wandered out of the kitchen and picked Harrison up as Antonin followed his lord into the sitting room. "You look worried, Harrison, my love," she said, poking him on the nose. She offered him a small smile. "The Lord is one to respect and fear, but he will not hurt you without cause," she said.

The boy stayed silent, merely squirming out of his godmother's hold.

"That's not it, though," Bellatrix said. "What's wrong?"

"Is he the same lord who gave you and Papa the marks on your arms?" he asked.

Bellatrix knelt down to be closer to eye level with the boy. "I look forward to the day that you get your own mark, Harrison, but it's not an easy mark to get," she said. "But do not push yourself into service with our lord."

"Why not?" Harrison asked curiously. He looked at Bellatrix's Dark Mark and grinning

The woman hesitated for a moment - she and Antonin had had a number of conversations about this, and there was no way that Antonin was going to allow his son to enter into the Dark Lord's service before he'd even started his official schooling. "Do you know how to fight? How to protect yourself? How to move through the shadows so quietly that no one ever knows you were there?" she asked.

Harrison shook his head. "Not yet, but I'm only six years old," he said. "And Papa won't teach me how to do bigger magic until I'm older."

Bellatrix nodded. "And once you are stronger, and once you know how to do those things, you can ask the lord for permission to enter into his service," she said. "He has no use for an untrained soldier, and I do not want you to risk your life before you're old enough to get into serious trouble with me," she said with a grin. "After all, what am I good for if I don't teach you how to properly assassinate at least one government official?" she asked.

He grinned and opened his mouth to respond, but Antonin walked into the hallway.

"We're waiting for the two of you to show up," he said irritably. "Stop wasting time," he said, with a sharp glare at Bellatrix.

The woman stood up and sent a dirty look in Antonin's direction. "Get the knot out of your knickers, would you? We're coming," she said as she stood up and walked into the sitting room with Harrison.

Antonin was waiting for them by the door, clearly still irritated. The Dark Lord had already made himself comfortable inside the sitting room.

"Bellatrix, why are you not with your sister?" the lord asked as the two of them walked into the room and sat down on the couch across from the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord was sitting in Harrison's favorite chair in the sitting room, a large, plush armchair. He watched passively as Harrison darted into the room and sat next to Antonin, but his eyes narrowed minutely when Bellatrix sauntered into the room and winked at him. "Bellatrix," he said in a cool voice. "Why are you here and not with your sister?" he asked.

"She and Lucius are having guests over and didn't want to risk those guests finding out that the ever-upstanding Malfoy family is hiding Cissy's half-mad, fugitive sister," she said. "And when Antonin named me Harrison's godmother, he told me that I was welcome in his Manor whenever I needed shelter, my lord," she said. "Of course, if you'd rather keep me close, my lord, I'm more than willing to keep you company," she said with a smirk. She shifted a bit so that the man had a clear view down the top of her dress, if he decided to look.

His expression went frigid and he made a sharp motion with his hand. "Mind yourself, Bellatrix, otherwise I'll return you to your husband and make sure that he keeps you in check," he said coldly before starting a conversation with Antonin.

Bellatrix scowled, but righted herself and leaned back on the chair. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back on the couch, staying silent.

Harrison looked over at her and frowned slightly. There were a few nights when Bellatrix stayed the night and Harrison had heard her screaming in her sleep. He hadn't asked her about it, but Antonin told him the next morning that her husband was rather ...creative when it came to keeping Bella's insanity in check.

She must have felt him staring, because she glanced over at him and gave him a small, weak smile before turning her focus back to the conversation taking place between Antonin and the Dark Lord.

Harrison made sure he was at least partially hidden by Antonin so that the man didn't see him enough to want to ask him any questions. He may have been fascinated by the man, but the sheer amount of magic that was seeping out of the Dark Lord when he was just sitting there terrified Harrison. He was a bit curious, though, about what the man might look like in the midst of a battle.

The conversation went on for some time, and Harrison didn't pay too much attention to it, but he was a bit curious why his father was telling the Dark Lord about his blood adoption and his first few years as Antonin's son.

About ten minutes into the conversation, after Bellatrix had started contributing with a few tidbits about some of her adventures with Harrison, the child took the opportunity to inspect the Dark Lord more closely.

He was taller than Antonin, and he had a pale, lean build. Still, Harrison knew better than to think the man weak because he was not as bulky as some of the other men that Antonin knew. He could still feel the power seeping off the man, and he held little doubt that the Dark Lord would allow his body to be at all weak, especially if his magic was as strong as it felt. The man's black hair reached just below his shoulders and it was pulled back behind his head with a dark red ribbon. His robes were clearly expensive, and they had a delicate sort of sheen to them that had Harrison thinking they were some kind of silk. The robes were black, trimmed in a dark red that matched the ribbon in his hair.

In one hand was a glass of red wine that he had to have summoned from somewhere else, since Antonin only drank white wine and vodka. He didn't see the Dark Lord's wand, though, and that piqued his curiosity.

Harrison leaned forward a bit, still hiding himself behind his father, but he stared at the man's face. It looked almost unearthly to him - he'd never seen anyone more beautiful in his short life. Not even Narcissa Malfoy was as attractive, and she was widely regarded as one of the most beautiful witches in England. Though there was something different about the Dark Lord. Where Narcissa was a deceptively delicate, feminine sort of beauty, this man had a more masculine beauty that was somehow somewhat calming and yet almost venomous at the same time.

The man's eyes were a dark reddish color that seemed to be a bit lighter than his wine. Instead, they seemed to be the same color of not-quite fresh blood. They seemed to almost glow even in the brightly lit sitting room, and it was only then that Harrison realized the man was looking right at him.

Antonin glanced down at his son and smirked when he noticed the boy staring back at the Dark Lord, though there was a distinctly nervous look on his face.

"Are you an angel?" Harrison asked quietly, and at that question, it seemed that all other noise in the room stopped suddenly.

An odd, yet not uncomfortable silence settled in the room as Harrison and the Dark Lord watched each other almost curiously. Bellatrix and Antonin shared a look but said nothing.

Finally, after a few minutes, the Dark Lord broke the silence. "What is your name, boy?" he asked coolly.

Harrison looked away from the man to glance almost uncertainly up at his father.

Antonin nudged him a bit. "Don't be rude," he said quietly. "Answer the question and show the Dark Lord the proper respect. We talked about this."

This six year old looked back over at the Dark Lord, who was still watching him calmly. "My name is Harrison Charles Antoninovich Delacroix Dolohov," he said. Antonin nudged him again and he flushed red. "Sir."

The Dark Lord smirked. "That is a large name for such a small child."

Harrison flushed red again. "Papa says I'll grow into it, sir," he said.

"I have no doubt you will."

"Are you an angel?" Harrison asked again.

"Not quite, Harrison," Antonin said quietly.

Harrison glanced up at his father before looking over at the Dark Lord, falling silent.

The Dark Lord watching him for a short moment before looking over at the two adults in the room. "Leave us alone for a moment," he said.

Bellatrix stood up and straightened her dress. When she noticed that Antonin was hesitant to leave the room, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him forcefully out of the room.

Once they were out of earshot and Harrison was alone in the room with him, the Dark Lord erected some sort of privacy spell before disappearing his glass of wine and leaning forward a bit. "Why do you think that I'm an angel?" he asked.

Harrison was silent. "Why did the people who gave birth to me send me away to Muggles?" he asked.

"Your father hasn't answered that question for you?"

"He said that he doesn't know everything and that if I want to know the whole truth, I need to ask you," Harrison said. "But Auntie Bella said that they wanted me to grow up into a weapon, and they sent me to suffer with the Muggles on purpose because they're bad people," he said.

The Dark Lord smirked slightly. "Why do you want to know why you were taken away?" he asked. "Are you not happy here with your father?"

Harrison shook his head violently. "I love Papa!" he said, a bit too loudly. "But I want to know why they got rid of me."

"They wanted to shape you into a soldier from a very young age," the Dark Lord said. "And then they were going to kill you once you'd served one single purpose."

"What purpose?" Harrison asked.

The Dark Lord paused, seeming almost to hesitate before speaking again. "They had planned to train you to kill me," he said. "And I didn't want you to have to suffer through a childhood of abusive Muggles and then nonstop training before you were sent off to battle and then killed."

"But why did they want me to kill you?"

The Dark Lord smirked again. "That's something that will be addressed when you're older," he said quietly.

"Why?" Harrison asked. "Is it because I don't have a mark on my arm?" he asked.

"Partially," the man said, leaning back again.

A knock on the threshold of the sitting room caught their attention and the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes when he felt a presence pressing on the edge of his Privacy wards. He looked up with an irate expression to see Antonin standing just inside the room, but not close enough to truly strain the ward.

"You have my apologies, my lord," Antonin said with a deep bow. "But Narcissa Malfoy and her son are here to take Harrison to the Malfoy villa in Belgium for the weekend," he said.

Harrison grinned. "May I go, sir?" he asked, looking over at the Dark Lord.

The man looked over at him and nodded slightly. "I look forward to speaking with you again, Harrison," he said as the boy quickly slipped off the couch and made his way over to Antonin.

Harrison nodded. "Me too," he said.

Before he made it out of the room, though, Antonin slapped the back of his head, stopping him in place. "Do not disrespect the Lord, kid," he said sharply.

Harrison looked up at his father, rubbing the back of his head and scowling at the man.

Antonin eyed him, a warning look on his face.

Harrison nodded slightly and turned back to face the Dark Lord. "It was an honor to have you here, sir, and I look forward to our next conversation as well," he said hurriedly. "Papa, Draco said that his mother said that we could race horses at the villa."

Antonin sighed but nodded. "Have the house elf pack you a bag for the weekend and then go greet the Malfoy brat," he said.

Harrison nodded and ran out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

This plot bunny snuck up on me again, so I started working on it again.

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

**Chapter 3: Another Four Years Later**

Antonin once again checked his reflection in the mirror to ensure that the Glamour he'd put on that morning was still in place. He was still waiting on his son to finish preparing himself for their first trip out of the country in nearly a month, and the first time since he'd taken him that Antonin was risking taking Harrison back to England.

He sighed and reached for his wand, wondering if he ought to make any changes to his new appearance. He could handle being a few inches shorter and a bit thicker, and the light green eyes were an interesting change of pace, but he drew the line at his new hair. Dark blonde hair, reaching just below his shoulders, reminded him far too much of his son's friend's father, and he didn't at all appreciate that.

"You look completely different, Papa," Harrison said as he walked into the room, fastening his cloak as he approached Antonin.

"It's horrible," Antonin groused.

"But I thought that's what you were aiming for," Harrison said.

"It is," Antonin muttered. "But I still don't like the fact that I look like Lucius Malfoy," he said, rubbing his hand along his freshly shaven jawline with a light scowl. "And I miss my scruff," he added before looking back over at his nearly eleven year old son.

Harrison laughed quietly. "I thought I was supposed to be the one who acted like a child," he said. "And I think both Draco and Uncle Lucius would die of shock if they heard you say that like it's a bad thing." He smirked and straightened himself a bit. "Honestly, Harry," he said in a high-pitched, over the top voice meant to mock Draco's voice. "The Malfoy family line is the closest that the British Wizarding World has to royalty anymore. To feel anything less than blessed by our friendship is an offense to our entire family line, and we are the type to hold grudges against those who don't regard us with the proper respect."

Antonin chuckled at the deliberately bad imitation. "Keep it up and you might give Lucius an aneurism. Mockery does not mix well with the Malfoy sensibility, even from such a long distance," he said. "Are you ready to go?"

Harrison nodded, pulling his shoulder length black hair back into a low ponytail. "Can we go to Knockturn Alley before we come back home?" he asked.

"If there's time," Antonin said, pulling his cloak on and tucking his wand into the holster on his left forearm. "And if you behave yourself, we'll stop by Ollivanders and get you a wand," he added, pulling the sleeve of his robe down so that the holster was hidden.

Harrison grinned widely but said nothing as he followed his father down the stairs of the Manor and into the sitting room. "What do you need to get in Diagon Alley that you can't get in the Plaza in Moscow?" he asked.

"Just a few things for a private project I'm working on," Antonin said. "Why do you want to go into Knockturn Alley?" he asked.

"Because Draco said that one of his cousins told him that there are tame vampires in the Alley," Harrison replied. "And I want to speak with one."

Antonin frowned. "What? How long have you been harboring this little interest?" he asked.

"Only about a month," Harrison said. "I read one of the really old books in the library when you were talking with the Lord about something and I wasn't allowed to listen to the conversation. It said that if you can get a vampire to trust you, you can learn a secret about how to become immortal," he said. "And I thought it would be better to talk to a tame vampire so that my throat doesn't get ripped out," he added.

Antonin's frown deepened and he stared at his son, not entirely sure what to say at the moment. "That's probably a good idea, yes," he said quietly before clearing his throat. "Why would you want to be immortal, Harrison?" he asked. "You've barely begun to live as it is."

His son nodded. "I know," he said. "And I'm not planning on becoming immortal any time soon, but it's still a fascinating concept, isn't it? Living forever?"

"On the blood of the innocent or the convenient, yes," Antonin drawled. "If there's time, I will take you to Knockturn, but I'm not going to let you out of my sight."

Harrison grinned and nodded. "Thank you."

Antonin hummed quietly, not sure how to take his son's enthusiasm at the possibility of meeting a vampire. He'd address it later if it became too much of a concern, but for now he'd stay silent on the matter. He reached out and took hold of Harrison's shoulder. "Hold still," he said as he pulled the child close to him. Once it was clear that his son wasn't going to make any sudden movements, he Apparated the two of them into Diagon Alley.

They arrived in the middle of the bustling Alley, in front of a small restaurant.

Harrison looked up at Antonin as the man pulled him out of the crowd, into the front of the alley next to the restaurant, and crouched down to be closer to eye level with him. "Is this the part where you tell me to be careful, mind my business, and then give me enough money for a few books?" he asked with a smirk.

Antonin said nothing, merely arching an eyebrow at his son.

Harrison sighed. "And I promise that I'm not going to go into Knockturn Alley without you, right?" he asked.

Antonin nodded.

"I promise, Papa. I won't go anywhere near Knockturn without you," Harrison said. "Now can we both go disappear until you get your secret ingredients?" he asked, smirking.

Antonin returned the smirk. "I'll let it go for now, but keep in mind that your lip has a way of getting you into trouble, kid," he said as he dropped a small pouch of Galleons into the pocket of his son's robes. "Don't lose that, don't leave the Alley, and try not to get into any trouble in my absence," he said.

"Where do you want me to be when we meet again?" Harrison asked.

"I have no doubt that you'll be in the bookshop, on the second floor and away from everyone else in the shop," Antonin said calmly. "You'll be sequestered away in a chair and a stack of books taller than the chair," he continued. "And the book in your lap will likely be incredibly expensive or one of the rarest copies either in the shop or in existence."

Harrison said nothing, glancing down at the ground to hide his embarrassed blush.

"That's nothing to be embarrassed about, kid," Antonin said with a smile at his son. "Your thirst for knowledge is nothing to be ashamed of when there are grown men and women who refuse to try to learn anything."

Harrison just nodded, not saying anything.

"Now, as you know, I've got to pick up a few things for my project, and I'll find you in the bookshop in about an hour," he said.

"Are there any books you need to pick up at the shop?" Harrison asked.

Antonin shook his head. "I'm good for now, kid," he said, straightening himself. "Have fun," he said.

...

Just as he'd suspected, Antonin found his son hidden away in the back of the second floor of the bookshop. He'd settled in one of the armchairs surrounded by piles of precariously perched books, and he was completely immersed in the book in his lap. The book, though, wasn't one of the ones Antonin had expected - it was neither expensive nor uncommon. Just the latest copy of _Hogwarts, A History_.

"This is an odd change for you, kid," Antonin said, and Harrison jumped at the sudden voice. He smirked. It wasn't all that often that he was able to sneak up on his son, since Bellatrix had trained him from an early age to be aware of his surroundings, and his reactions were always entertaining.

"Yes, but Auntie Bella said that I should be getting my letter to Hogwarts about three weeks after I turn eleven, so I thought it would be a good idea to start reading up on the school," he said. "I couldn't find a copy written in Russian, though," he added with a slight frown.

Antonin glanced at some of the titles in the nearest stack of books. Harrison was going to go to Hogwarts, as the Dark Lord had insisted, but Antonin still wasn't sure why his lord wanted the boy going to the school where Albus Dumbledore was the Headmaster. He'd gone to school with the Dark Lord back when he was just a boy, and his hatred for Dumbledore hadn't lessened with time. If anything, the Dark Lord hated the old man even more today than he had when they were students and he the Transfiguration teacher.

"Papa?" Harrison asked, picking up on his father's uncertainty. "I am going to Hogwarts, right?" he asked, closing the book and setting it on the arm of the chair. He picked up two books that Antonin hadn't noticed and stood up.

"You are, yes," Antonin said quietly, frowning. He rubbed his cheek lightly, scowling when he felt only smooth skin and not the two-day scruff that he was accustomed to. "But it's still not something that I'm all that comfortable with," he said. "What books did you want to buy today?" he asked.

Harrison held up the two books for his father to see, and Antonin arched an eyebrow suspiciously when he noticed the titles. "Finding Your Inner Animal and, wait, what is the other one?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Harrison said with a shrug. He looked down at the book in question and opened it up, absently flipping through the pages. "I can't read the title or any of the words in the book, but it's got a pull to it."

"A pull?" Antonin asked, all but snatching the book out of Harrison's hold and inspecting it for any sort of hex. "What kind of pull?" he asked.

"The kind that Auntie Bella gets when there's a platter of freshly made eclairs in the kitchen," Harrison replied with a small smile. "I can resist it if I really want to, but there are some urges that are best indulged upon," he added, seemingly accidentally.

Antonin frowned at the book. There weren't any charms or hexes attached to it, but he couldn't read anything in it either, and that concerned him. Nevertheless, he handed it back to his son. "If the pull increases any further, I want you to tell me right away, alright?" he asked. "How does lunch sound before we venture off into Knockturn?"

Harrison grinned."You're sure you don't mind taking me to the Alley?" he asked, making sure he had a firm hold on the books as he followed Antonin down the stairs to the back counter where the clerk was just finishing up with another customer.

"As long as I have your word that you won't wander off and do something stupid, I suppose it won't be too much of a hassle to take you there," Antonin said, adopting an extremely put-upon expression and sighing heavily. "Though given your habit of getting into trouble the moment you're left to your own devices, you're likely going to drive me into an early grave."

Harrison's grin just got slightly more mischievous. "Your confidence in me is incredibly reassuring, Papa," he said as the two of them stepped in front of the counter. He reached into his pocket for the pouch Antonin had given him earlier and pulled out enough money to pay for both books. "And I'll do my best not to cause you too much grief this afternoon."

"Ah," Antonin said, resting a hand on his heart and smiling slightly. "A blessed reprieve, regardless of how temporary it may be," he said.

The clerk bit back a smile at the interaction as Antonin shrunk the books and escorted his son out of the shop. "Have a nice day, gentlemen," she said just before they left the shop.

"Where are we going for lunch?" Harrison asked.

"I did Apparate us in front of that small restaurant for a reason," Antonin said. "It's close enough to the Knockturn entrance, and it's got some of the best chefs on staff in either of the Alleys," he said, resting his hand gently but firmly on the back of Harrison's neck as they maneuvered through the crowd of people. Nothing had happened in the hour he was gone, but that didn't make him feel any more at ease. He had enemies in England, and the blood adoption had caused only a few changes to Harrison's appearance. In general, though, it seemed that, with few exceptions, he didn't trust the British.

Harrison said nothing, merely trusting his father not to lose him in the crowd, which seemed to have gotten rougher than when he'd gone to the bookshop.

"And if you keep your eyes peeled, you might even be able to catch a glimpse of the creatures that you're apparently looking to find," Antonin said in Russian, slipping back into his native language so as to avoid eavesdroppers.

Just before they reached the restaurant, a boy about Harrison's age ran into Harrison, shoving him roughly against the brick wall. The boy had short, dark red hair, and he was wearing simple red robes that were covered in dirt and what looked to be some kind of jam.

Antonin, with reflexes that Harrison had never seen before, grabbed a handful of the boy's hair and hauled him back in front of him before the boy had the chance to disappear into the restaurant.

"Oi!" the boy yelped, glaring up at Antonin. "Let go of me, ya old perv!"

The older man merely arched an eyebrow at the boy. "Are you hurt, kid?" he asked.

"Of course I am," the boy snapped, squirming in Antonin's unrelenting hold. "You're pulling my hair out!"

"I wasn't talking to you," Antonin said coldly, glaring down at the boy. "I was talking to my son."

Harrison straightened himself and looked over at Antonin. "I don't think so," he said, walking over to stand next to his father. He licked his lips when he felt something slide over his top lip, and frowned when he tasted blood. "Nothing's broken, I don't think," he said.

Before Antonin could say or do anything, a woman with bright red hair ran up to the three of them, her face matching her hair. "Oh my," she said, quickly taking in the situation. "Please forgive my son, Mister-"

Antonin glared at the woman, and she took a step back. "Anthony Delacroix," he said finally. "I suspect you are not well educated in matters of basic etiquette?" he asked, and if possible, the woman blushed even redder.

Harrison smirked at the boy, who was glaring at him.

"My son just got a bit overexcited. It's been almost three days since our last visit to the Alley, and we had to skip breakfast to get here," she said. "Accidents do tend to happen."

Antonin scoffed quietly but let go of the boy's hair.

The woman beckoned the boy to her side, and he didn't hesitate to run to his mother's side. "I'm Lily Potter. My son, Tyler, is really very sorry for what he's done," she said. "He's only nine years old-"

"Youth is not an excuse for failing to teach your child the most basic of manners," he said coldly. He leaned over Harrison, inspecting the boy's nose. "It's not broken," he said before murmuring a phrase in Russian and watching as Harrison's nose repaired itself.

"Ow," Harrison muttered, his hand going up to his nose. "I hate when you do that without warning," he said quietly.

"Really, he's very sorry," Lily said, butting into the conversation.

Antonin and Harrison turned back to look at the mother-son duo at the same time. While Antonin and Lily started trading barbs back and forth, Harrison took the time to look over the two.

The boy and his mother were built somewhat similarly - both were relatively short with generally feminine features, but where Lily was thin and lean, her son was thicker. Clearly, Harrison thought to himself, the boy enjoyed his sweets. And likely some sweets that weren't his. They were both wearing the same red robes, and while they were nice, they were nowhere near the quality of the silk robes that Harrison was wearing - they'd been a Yuletide gift from the Malfoy family.

Tyler didn't say anything, but he was openly glaring at Harrison. Right. Very sorry. Of course, Harrison thought with a small sneer.

"Well, we cannot all be from Dark families who force their children to learn under the threat of pain," Lily snapped suddenly, glaring openly at Antonin as she abandoned the subtle insults that the two of them had previously used.

Harrison sneered up at the woman, noticing the way her eyes widened as she looked him over. "My father has never laid a hand on me to hurt me," he said coldly, sounding much older than his not-quite eleven years. "And you'd do well not to comment on a man's child-rearing behavior when you've been unable to teach your child the most basic decency."

"How dare you-" Lily started, her face once again matching her hair.

"No," Harrison snapped, and both he and Antonin noticed his magic spiking. The tips of his fingers started tingling with magic, and unbeknownst to him, his Avada Kevadra green eyes had brightened to glow, even in the bright daylight of the Alley. "How dare you. The next time you choose to insult a family with your lack of manners and false apologies, I suggest you find a family that is accustomed to such base interactions. I hear the United States has wizards whose manners are little better than inbred Muggles, so you might try your luck there." He was going to continue, but Antonin clamped a hand on his shoulder, effectively silencing him.

Antonin smirked down at him. "Go into the restaurant and get a table for us, kid," he said, glancing down at his son. "You've done plenty for now."

Harrison nodded, albeit reluctantly, and made his way into the restaurant.

The hostess, a very large, middle aged woman watched him with an almost amused look on her face until he spoke.

"I'd like a table for two," he said coolly. "In the back."

She nodded, eyeing Harrison oddly for a moment before leading him to a booth along the back wall of the restaurant. "Is your mum coming in behind you?" she asked patronizingly as Harrison slid into a seat.

Antonin walked up to the booth and eyed the hostess coldly. "His mother died years ago," he said. "And you are dangerously close to overstepping your bounds."

The woman nodded, paling a bit, before leaving the two of them alone at the booth.

"Did you have fun with the Potter lady?" Harrison asked with a smirk.

Antonin took a seat in the booth opposite Harrison and immediately set up a number of Privacy Charms to prevent any potential eavesdroppers. "She's as arrogant and unpleasant now as she was the last time I had the misfortune of running into her," he said. "But it is rather interesting."

"What is?" Harrison asked with a frown.

"It looked like your birth mother almost recognized you when you were talking down to her," he said with a loose grin.

Harrison's jaw dropped. "That was my-"

"Your mother, yes," Antonin said.

"So the boy that she was protecting would be-"

"Your baby brother, I'd suppose," Antonin said, his grin fading quickly. "He couldn't be much more than two years younger than you, so they clearly got over abandoning you on a Muggle doorstep quite quickly," he said.

Harrison glanced out the window but didn't see any sign of the woman or her son. He looked back at his father, scowling. "That news could have been broken to me a little bit easier," he said irritably.

"I'm not in the practice of breaking news gently, kid, and you know that," he said quietly. He tensed a bit and looked around the restaurant, almost like he thought someone was watching them, but he didn't say anything.

"Are you alright?" Harrison asked. "You haven't used my name since we got into the Alley."

"You picked up on that, did you?" Antonin asked as a waitress walked up to the table and set down two menus and two glasses of water. "Care to hazard a guess why that is?" he asked with a smirk.

Harrison paused for a moment, pretending to think it over before grinning and shaking his head. "Nope. Not going to guess."

"You know exactly how to ruin my fun, kid, you know?" Antonin asked as he looked over the menu in front of him. He took note of one dish in particular and grinned. "I thought Bella taught you from a young age to enjoy guessing games," he said. "What are you going to get today?" he asked.

"Pasta, maybe," Harrison said absently. "And I've learned from my extensive training in childhood to avoid any sort of guessing games with Auntie Bella," he said. "Because when I guess wrong, she'll jinx me."

"Jinx you how?" Antonin asked, his expression hardening at the implications. The woman had calmed down a bit with her required regiment of potions to keep her mentally stable, but some of her more dangerous habits were still with her. She had never harmed Harrison, and he very much doubted that she would, but still. He worried.

"Just a Tickling Spell, or a Jelly-Legs Jinx," Harrison said.

"And you haven't learned to just always guess right with her?" Antonin asked, relaxing quite a bit.

"Nope," Harrison said with a grin as he set his menu down. "I just send her to you when she tries to make me play those games with her."

"You're an evil little bastard," Antonin muttered darkly as he set his menu aside as well. "Why are you suddenly fascinated with the prospect of immortality?" he asked quietly. "Bella didn't put you up to this as part of one of her ridiculous little schemes, did she?"

Harrison shook his head. "She doesn't know about this idea," he said. "Nobody else does but you."

"And how did you come up with this idea?" Antonin asked.

"When Draco and I were putting the horses away last weekend, I overheard Narcissa and Lucius talking about the Dark Lord," he said in a hushed voice. He smiled slightly when Antonin made a vague gesture to strengthen the Privacy Charms surrounding the two of them. "About how he's looking for a way to live forever."

"And you want to be the one to present immortality to our Lord?" Antonin asked. "You'd certainly gain his attention, and if it worked the way he's looking for it to work, you'd quickly gain his favor."

Harrison nodded. "Auntie did tell me that, since I'm still too young to be a soldier in the Dark Lord's forces, she would help me try to gain the Lord's favor in some other way that didn't put me in any kind of combat scenarios," he said. "And even apart from that, it's a fascinating idea, isn't it?" he asked. "Never dying?"

Antonin said nothing for a moment.

The waitress walked up to the table. "Have you decided on something to eat, gentlemen?" she asked, collecting the two menus.

Antonin looked over at his son, who nodded slightly. "I'll have the Pelmini, and my son will have the Filet Mignon," he said. "And if I could have a Baltika Classic Lager as well?" he asked.

The woman nodded, taking note of the orders. "It should be up in a few minutes," she said before leaving the two of them alone again.

Antonin looked over at Harrison again, who was looking out the window with an almost pensive look on his face. "He's going to be checking in on you before you begin your schooling at Hogwarts," he said after a moment of watching his son.

"Really?" Harrison asked, sounding almost excited.

Antonin nodded. "He's had his eye on you since before I took you in," he said.

"What? How come?" he asked.

Antonin shrugged. "Hell if I know," he said. "But he nearly ordered that I kill you when you were barely a year old," he said. "Our Lord knows that you are powerful, and he is almost never willing to allow a potential threat to thrive and grow to be a threat to him."

Harrison scowled lightly. "But I'm not trying to threaten him," he said. "And I don't want to threaten him."

"Not deliberately, no," Antonin said cautiously, knowing that he'd have to choose his words carefully. "But you're a gifted wizard already, and you don't have any formal schooling," he said.

"How so?" Harrison asked, frowning.

"Your control over your magic is quite remarkable, especially given your display with the Potters earlier," Antonin said, unable to hide the proud smile at his son. "And your magic is even more plentiful than it was when you were younger, so the Dark Lord knows that when you're fully grown and your magic has fully developed, you're either going to be a formidable opponent or an incredibly valuable ally when you're grown," he said.

"What exactly are you getting at?" Harrison asked.

"I'm trying to tell you that the Dark Lord will likely always make it a point to keep an eye on you," Antonin said. "Just don't push yourself into the limelight before you're ready."

Harrison frowned. "How will I know when I'm ready, though?" he asked.

Antonin paused. "At the risk of sounding cliche, when the time comes, you'll know."

"I still don't get it."

Antonin stayed silent for a moment, thinking very carefully about how to phrase what he was trying to tell his son. "Until you're absolutely sure that you're prepared to deal with the consequences that come with being in the limelight, do not pull any attention to yourself," he said. "There are people in the Dark Lord's services who will see your talent and your successes as a threat. They'll do their best to get rid of you so that the Lord's attention is back on them."

"Why?"

"The select few of us who have managed to gain the Lord's favor are fortunate enough to be granted with more leeway than those followers who are struggling to follow even the most basic instructions," he said.

Harrison nodded. "And they'll do whatever they think they need to get on his good side," he said.

Antonin smirked and nodded. "I don't want you dealing with that kind of cutthroat competition until you've got the necessary education and training that will make sure you've got at least a chance of defending yourself and then fighting back," he said. "There's only so much I can do to keep you safe."

"And pushing myself into the center of attention will make it harder for me to stay safe," Harrison said, falling silent for a long moment. "But you're not telling me to stop what I'm trying to do," he said, watching his father curiously.

"Not at all," Antonin said, still smirking. "I look forward to the day that you stand next to me in the Inner Circle," he said. "Just make sure that you keep your research discreet."

"And what if I find something that might actually work?" Harrison asked.

Antonin looked at his son, arching his eyebrow at the boy. "Is there some reason that you don't trust your father?" he asked.

Harrison grinned. "You're my father, but that still doesn't stop you from being a man who's looking for an edge up among your fellow soldiers," he said. "And I don't want you taking credit for any of my research should it work out."

Antonin smirked. "Warranted, I suppose," he said quietly. "Should you manage to get anything worthy of the Dark Lord's attention, either here or while you're off at school, let me know and I will do my best to have the Lord meet with you so you can share your research with him. Does that agree with your ever-suspicious sensibilities?" he asked.

He paused, thinking it over.

Before he had the chance to say anything, the waitress walked up to their table, carrying a tray with their food and Antonin's drink.

As the filet mignon was set in front of him, Harrison looked over at his father. "It's a deal," he said.

Antonin grinned wolfishly, watching the waitress head over to another table.

"Wonderful," he said. "After we finish our lunch, we'll head into Knockturn and you can look for a tame vampire."

Harrison just grinned at the man before starting in on his meal.


	4. Chapter 4

This plot bunny snuck up on me again, so I started working on it again.

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

**Chapter 4**

They had no sooner entered the Alley when Antonin felt an ominous shiver run down his spine. Without saying anything, he pulled Harrison flush against his side and locked his hands onto the boy's shoulders to keep him close. Soft laughter from behind him confirmed his thoughts that the two of them were being watched.

Harrison looked up at his father and opened his mouth to say something, but when he noticed that the man had gone deathly pale and was clenching his eyes shut, he closed his mouth and looked around to try and see what had his usually calm father standing frozen in terror, not even bothering to try and hide his emotions. When he saw nothing, he looked back up at his father, watching the man almost curiously.

Antonin tightened his hold on his son when he felt someone running her manicured hands through his hair. He ignored the quiet whimper of pain from his son and opened his eyes, looking around. "Show yourself," he growled.

"But it is so much more entertaining to torment you like this, _Antonin_," the woman said in a purr, putting a particular emphasis on Antonin's real name. "This way, there is no way for you retaliate when I can hide from you." She again ran her fingers through his hair before pressing a light kiss to the back of his neck.

"Stop fucking touching me," Antonin snapped, taking a step away from the woman. He turned around a bit, his eyes flashing in anger as he looked for his assailant.

"Papa?" Harrison asked hesitantly, watching his father. "Who are you talking to?"

Antonin tied his hair back with a spare leather cord and stayed silent for a moment, not sure how to phrase his answer. He didn't stop scouring the shadows to try and catch a glimpse of the woman.

It turned out, however, that he didn't need to answer his son.

A woman walked out from the shadows where Antonin had been standing just seconds ago, smirking dangerously at the man. "Hello, Antonin," she said quietly.

He eyed her angrily, though there was a distinct glint of fear coloring his expression.

The woman was almost as tall as Antonin, and lean. She had darker skin than Harrison had seen before, and her hair was pitch black. She was wearing a long emerald gown and her fingernails, which seemed more than slightly to resemble claws, were manicured and filed into almost pointed tips.

Harrison eyed the woman's hands uncertainly - they looked particularly sharp, and he had little doubt that they were sharp enough to slice through skin. All together, the woman gave off a frigid sense of power that had the hairs on the back of Harrison's neck standing up, but he wasn't entirely sure why.

Her eyes were a light hazel, almost gold color, and they flashed a bit in what Harrison hoped was amusement when she looked down. He met her gaze evenly, but let out a sigh when she returned her gaze back to Antonin.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Antonin asked. "I've adopted certain physical characteristics for specific reasons."

"Yes, but you should know better now than to hide from me behind your Glamours," she purred, stepping toward Antonin. "We have known each other far too long, and I am familiar with the taste of your magic, so there is no way for you to hide from me."

Antonin just scowled at her. He refused to take a step back as the woman moved closer to him, deliberately invading his personal space.

"Now, darling, what are you doing here in England?" she asked, tracing her fingers along Antonin's jaw.

"You've got a lot of nerve thinking that I'm only hiding from you, and I'm here with my son," Antonin said coldly, slapping the woman's hand away from him and positioning himself so that he was between Harrison and the woman. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you went back to Italy for good fifteen years ago."

"I settled in Ireland a few years ago during my fifth marriage, though that man has unfortunately left this world. I would have returned to my home in Venice, but my late husband's Manor is settled on such beautiful country lands, and there is plenty of room for me to lounge about," she said. "Though I am in the alleys today for the same reason as you," she added, looking back over at Harrison. "You are aware that he looks nothing like your Glamour's appearance, I would hope."

"The boy takes after his mother," Antonin said curtly.

"And where, pray tell, is she?"

Harrison opened his mouth to answer the question when he noticed a boy about his age approaching the woman. He immediately knew that the boy was the woman's son - he had the same dark skin, black hair, and eyes as the woman, and he was wearing robes that matched her dress.

"Mother, I was able to get her!" the boy called with a grin, holding up a small orange kitten for her to see. As soon as he was at his mother's side, he looked over at Harrison and his grin only grew larger. "I'm Blaise Zabini," he said, shifting his hold on the kitten and offering Harrison his free hand.

Harrison smirked back and shook the boy's hand. "I'm Harrison Delacroix," he said.

"Your accent is brilliant," Blaise said. "Where are you from?"

"France," Harrison said, sticking to the ruse that Antonin had taught him when they'd made their first public outing as the Delacroix family and not the Dolohovs. With a quick glance up at his father, he quickly maneuvered out of Antonin's hold. "Were there more animals where the kitten was?" he asked.

Blaise nodded. "There's dozens of kittens, at least," he said, taking hold of Harrison's hand while juggling the kitten in his hold. "Come with me; I'll show you."

Antonin scowled at the interaction, but when he noticed the piercing look that Blaise's mother was leveling on him, he allowed the boys to disappear down the alley together. "I assume you're looking for a conversation, Serena," he said, already resigning himself to the conversation that he wouldn't be able to escape.

"Something of the sort," she said, stepping forward and curling a hand around his upper arm. "We'll follow the boys as we speak. We don't want them getting into trouble, after all, and if your son has inherited the same propensity for getting into trouble that my boy did, they're likely going to need at least some adult supervision," she said.

"Fantastic," Antonin drawled, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "What did you want to discuss?" he asked as they started walking down the alley, following the boys from a distance.

"While you and your ...son were in the restaurant, I couldn't help but overhear that you were looking for a tame vampire," Serena said quietly, watching Antonin carefully out of the corner of her eyes.

"And being the charming and incredibly benevolent person that you are, you couldn't wait to volunteer your assistance in our search?" Antonin asked. "And Harrison is my son; there's no need for the skepticism."

Serena hummed, smirking coldly. "And yet you claim to still be loyal to your wife?" she asked.

Antonin glared at her, any sign of fear gone at that statement. "You are well aware that my wife and my daughter have been dead for nearly two decades," he bit out.

She merely hummed again, seeming more amused than intimidated. "A blood adoption, then?" she asked, nodding to herself when Antonin clenched his jaw shut and the vein in his temple became more apparent. "Yes," she said quietly. "We'll talk about that later, when we're in a more private setting. For now, I'd like to know why you're searching for vampires."

"My son finds the creatures fascinating," he said after a long moment of silence.

"Much like you did when you were younger?" Serena asked with a knowing smirk.

Harrison ran back up to the two of them, grinning. Blaise was only a half step behind him, holding his kitten close to his chest.

Serena frowned. "Blaise, child, hand me that cat before you drop her," she said, taking the kitten from him before the boy had the chance to argue with her.

"Papa, can we get a cat as well?" Harrison asked with a pleading look on his face.

When he saw that his son had adopted his puppy eyed look, Antonin sighed, knowing that he wouldn't stand a chance in an argument with the boy. "I suppose," he said. "You may as well get one for your Aunt Bella, as well, if you'd like, what with her birthday being sometime soon," he said.

"Thank you!" Harrison said, quickly hugging his father before he and Blaise ran back down the alley, toward an old woman standing in front of an old, worn down shop.

"Is something wrong?" Serena asked, watching her son and Harrison disappear into the shop, accompanied by the woman.

"I will not have this discussion in public," Antonin said.

"And you know me well enough to know that I'm not going to let this conversation end here," she said with another of her knowing smirks. "In fact, why don't you invite my son and I over to your house for dinner this evening? We can have our discussion in private and the boys can get to know each other better."

Antonin frowned. "What makes you think that they need to get to know each other at all?" he asked. "I may be enrolling him in a school closer to where we live."

"Back in France, you mean?" Serena asked, laughing quietly. "If that were true, then you'd have no reason whatsoever for you to bring your son through the British Alleys and risk exposing him to the threat that we both face," she said. "Why are you enrolling him in Hogwarts?"

"I've been given a suggestion that bringing him back to England would prove more beneficial for certain causes, though the reasoning behind that suggestion hasn't been explained to me with the detail that I'd hoped for," he said quietly, making sure that no one would be able to decipher what he was saying, in the event that anyone was listening too closely to their conversation.

"Such is the life of a disciple," Serena said, using a gentler tone that Antonin could ever remember her using. "I will find out myself why your son is so fascinated with that particular demographic of Dark creatures this evening," she said.

Antonin nodded hesitantly. "You're more than welcome to come over for dinner, if you so desire," he said, just as Harrison walked out of the pet store carrying two kittens, Blaise at his side.

"Blaise is coming over for dinner?" he asked with a grin.

Antonin just leaned down and picked up the larger of the two kittens - a black cat that was barely awake. "He and his mother are invited, yes," he said quietly. "Which one is yours?" he asked.

Harrison smiled a bit and nodded toward the Siamese kitten that was perched on his shoulder. "Her name is Zoe," he said. "And the black cat is Auntie's gift. That one's a boy, and the lady in the shop said his name was Titus."

Blaise looked between Antonin and his mother. "The lady told us that, since we're boys, the girl cats will get along better with us," he said. "Mother, may we go to their house for dinner? Please?" he asked.

Serena removed her hand from Antonin's arm and she returned to Blaise his kitten. "As long as you behave yourself this afternoon, and if Monsieur Delacroix does not object, I suppose we can join him for dinner," she said, though she sent an odd look to Antonin.

He sighed but said nothing.

Blaise nodded. "Yes, mother," he said, holding the kitten to his chest.

Antonin straightened himself. "Do you remember how to get into the Manor?" he asked of Serena.

She nodded. "I even remember the phrase used to come in through the Floo, if you're more comfortable with us traveling that way," she said.

He shook his head. "I'll take the Anti-Apparition wards down for fifteen minutes at eight o'clock this evening," he said.

She just nodded again. "Eight o'clock," she said.

"We'll see you this evening, then, Serena," Antonin said before looking down at Harrison, who was pulling his hair away from Zoe, who had for some reason decided to start chewing on his hair. "Come on, kid, we'll take the cats back home, but we've still got things to do before dinner," he said, resting his hand on the back of Harrison's neck and ignoring the kitten's sandpaper tongue as she started licking his fingers.

Harrison nodded and closed his eyes, waiting for his father to Apparate them into the Manor.

With a loud crack, they arrived in the sitting room seconds later. Antonin set the black kitten down as the Siamese kitten jumped from Harrison's shoulder and onto the arm of Harrison's favorite armchair. It didn't take long for the Siamese kitten to pounce on the black cat, and that started an impromptu chase out the room and down the halls.

Antonin snapped his fingers and a house elf appeared in front of him almost immediately. "Keep an eye on the cats," he said. "Make sure they don't get hurt, and don't let them into any rooms they shouldn't be going into," he added.

The house elf nodded silently and disappeared with a soft pop.

Antonin looked down at his son, once again resting his hand on the back of Harrison's neck. "Hold still, kid," he said with a smirk. "We're going back to the Alley."

Harrison nodded and the two of them returned to the Alley.

When they made it back, Harrison stumbled a bit, but Antonin easily caught him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm dizzy," Harrison said.

Antonin smirked. "Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and focus on standing upright," he said calmly.

Once Harrison was steady on his feet, Antonin straightened himself and led Harrison down the alley, toward one shop in particular.

"Ollivander's?" Harrison asked, his face lighting up when he realized where they were going. "Am I going to get a wand?" he asked.

"I suppose you need one before you start your first year at school," Antonin said before adopting a put-upon expression. "My god, I'm getting old."

Harrison just grinned up at Antonin. "Of course you are," he said. "I mean, you were old before I came along, but now? Hell, you're ancient."

"Watch the language, kid," Antonin said dispassionately. The smirk on his face, however, belied his amusement as he held the door to the wandmaker's shop open for Harrison to walk inside. When he walked into the shop behind his son, he immediately noticed the other father-son duo that was in there, and he bit back a groan. This was clearly not his day, he told himself, deliberately placing himself between Harrison and the two strangers.

Harrison looked at the other two people in the room before glancing up at his father. "Is something wrong?" he asked in hushed French.

The softly spoken question caught the attention of the man who could only be Ollivander himself, and he looked over at Antonin. "I remember you," he said with a small smile. "Twelve inches, cherry, with the crushed skull of an eagle owl, unless my memory has suddenly failed me."

Antonin smirked and held up the wand in question. "I doubt your memory will ever fail you, Ollivander. I came in earlier and made an appointment with you," he said.

The other man in the huffed loudly, watching Antonin through narrowed hazel eyes. "We were in here first," he said, resting his hand on his son's shoulder.

Ollivander looked over at them. "I'm terribly sorry to ask you to wait, but Monsieur Delacroix called ahead and made an appointment. They're on a strict schedule and you two have some time to spare, as you were just telling me a few minutes ago, Mister Potter," he said. "I'll be with you once I've finished with these gentlemen."

The man, apparently Mister Potter, looked for a moment like he was about to protest, but when he looked over at Harrison, his eyes widened slightly. He closed his mouth, eyeing Harrison oddly, and nodded. "Come on, JJ," he said. "We'll go to Fortescue's for ice cream and then come back here in a little while." Without giving his son the chance to object, he pulled the boy out of the shop, staring at Harrison his entire way out.

When Ollivander, Antonin and Harrison were the only ones left in the shop, Ollivander looked over at Harrison. "Which is your wand arm?" he asked, and Harrison hesitated a moment before holding out his left arm. "Good," he said as a tape measure showed up and started measuring his arm. "Now, Mr. Dolohov," he said curtly.

Antonin froze, staring wide-eyed at the old man.

"As much as I enjoy the disguises that you and your accomplices adopt, it would be in your best interests to send me advance notice as to what you're going to look like," Ollivander said, leveling a warning look on Dolohov. "I've been making wands for centuries, and I've seen regimes rise and fall and rise again. It is well known that I maintain a neutral stance in all conflicts, but if my shop is made a target because your kind gets careless, I may be inclined to offer assistance to the people who want to see you dead," he said as he locked the front door of the shop and made a vague gesture with his hand, drawing the curtains shut.

"Of course," Antonin said, bowing his head to the old man. "You have my humblest apology, and I'll inform the rest of my kind as such."

Ollivander nodded once, looking back at Harrison. "Alright, young man," he said. "We'll start with the less complex wands, though I've got a feeling that you're going to be difficult."

...

The man's suspicion was proved correct when, almost an hour later, Harrison still hadn't found the proper wand for him. Antonin had perched himself on a stool near the door and was watching his son getting more and more frustrated with the process. After Harrison picked up a new wand and the window in the back room of the shop exploded for the third time, Ollivander repaired the window and snatched the wand back.

"Are you sure there's a wand for me?" Harrison asked, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling in frustration.

Ollivander laughed quietly. "There is a wand for every wizard, young Mister Dolohov," he said. "Though yours seems to be a rather stubborn case." He paused for a long moment, absently tugging on his right earlobe. "Though, I wonder," he said absently.

"Wonder what?" both Harrison and Antonin asked simultaneously.

"There is one wand that might fit the bill," Ollivander said as he headed toward the back of the store, and reached into one of the alcoves covered with dust. He pulled out a narrow brown box and handed it to Harrison. "Try this one," he said, taking the top off the box and watching carefully as Harrison looked at the wand.

The young man looked up at Harrison almost uncertainly before picking up the wand. Immediately upon contact, a warm, comfortable sensation spread through his body and he found himself closing his eues.

Ollivander's eyes widened as a small shower of silver sparks burst from the tip of the wand. "Interesting," he murmured to himself.

The quiet statement caught Antonin's attention, and he was on his feet and at his son's side almost immediately, checking Harrison for injuries. "Why is this interesting?" he asked when he was sure that Harrison wasn't hurt.

"The wand itself is among my more powerful wands just because of what it's made of," he said. "Eleven inches, made of holly, but the phoenix feather core is key. It It's what makes the wand so special."

"Why?" Harrison asked, finally looking away from his wand, choosing instead to watch Ollivander.

"The feather came from a phoenix who only allowed me to collect two feathers, and from that I made two brother wands. The wands were with each other for nearly six decades, and that allowed their strength to manifest more than I'd expected. This wand, and it's brother, were two of the most temperamental wands I've made in quite some time. It is rather peculiar, though," he said. At an expectant glare from Antonin, Ollivander sighed and subtly increased the strength of the privacy charms in the shop. "What is peculiar, Mister Dolohov, is that your son's wand is brother to that of the Dark Lord Voldemort," he said.


	5. Chapter 5

This plot bunny snuck up on me again, so I started working on it again.

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

**Chapter 5**

"I'm tired," Harrison complained loudly as he dropped bonelessly onto the closest couch. "Why did we have to spend almost five hours in the Alleys today? You didn't even buy that much!"

Antonin grinned down at him as he unfastened the necklace that anchored his Glamours. He groaned quietly as the Glamours melted off and he reverted back to his appearance. "Just be glad that Bellatrix didn't decide to take you on a shopping trip," he said, picking the boy up and bodily tossing him over his shoulder. He only laughed, tightening his hold on Harrison when the boy growled at him and tried to squirm out of his hold. "The last time I ended up going shopping with her, we went missing for three weeks," he added as Bellatrix stepped out of the fireplace, dusting the soot off of her dress. "Speak of the pain in the ass," he said, sounding suddenly exhausted.

"Hi Auntie. You went missing with Papa?" Harrison asked, no longer squirming in his father's hold.

Bellatrix grinned and looked over at Harrison. "Our Mediterranean shopping trip?" she asked knowingly.

Harrison nodded, and Antonin remained silent as he walked up the stairs to Harrison's bedroom.

"Well, you see, since my husband was being a bit of a raging twat at the time, and Antonin's wife was off spending some time with her parents, we both decided to blow off some team by spending some time in the Mediterranean together," she said. "During the trip, Antonin was kind enough to share some of his opinions on some things for a few shopping trips and we had a few drinks during the trip to keep it interesting."

Antonin snorted. "A few?" he asked. "The Turkish Minister of Magic had to personally visit our hotel room and inform us that we were to leave the country immediately," he said, not looking back at Bellatrix. "And I was burdened with the task of explaining to my wife why I was not allowed back in the country for our fourth anniversary the following November."

"Antonin, since I met you, I've always told you that you need to lighten up a bit," Bella said with a smirk. "That has clearly not changed."

Harrison winced when he felt Antonin's grip on his tighten to an almost painful degree, but he knew better than to say anything. He still didn't know much about Antonin's dead wife, and given the way the older man tended to shut down whenever she came up in conversation, he wasn't planning on asking about her any time soon.

Bellatrix grinned and stuck her tongue out at Harrison, who was quick to return the gesture before Antonin set him down on his feet. The boy looked around, not sure where he was until he saw the fireplace in his bedroom, the fire smoldering but not quite burnt out.

"Go get cleaned up, kid," he said. "Serena and Blaise are coming over for dinner in about an hour and a half, and it's going to take me that long to get rid of Bellatrix."

Harrison grinned and looked up at Bellatrix. "I'll see you tomorrow, Auntie," he said before walking into his bedroom. As soon as he closed the door behind himself, though, he heard a loud thud against the wall - perhaps Bellatrix had shoved Antonin against the wall again, like she tended to do when she wanted to maim him but knew she couldn't.

"You cannot expect the boy to grow up to be as stoic as you," Bella snapped, and Harrison could hear her as clearly as if he was standing right next to her. "He may be mature, but he's still only ten years old."

"Get your hands off me, woman," Antonin growled. "Get back to your sister's house and leave me alone if you're going to be like this."

Bellatrix was silent for a moment. "I wasn't here long enough to touch a nerve that badly," she said. "What happened in the Alleys?"

Antonin growled but didn't say anything.

Harrison stayed at the door, waiting to hear his father's response.

"Antonin?" Bellatrix asked, sounding uncharacteristically concerned.

"Serena Zabini is coming over for dinner this evening," he said.

"The same Serena Zabini that freed up those three weeks for us to spend in the Mediterranean?" she asked, and there was a long moment of silence. "Oh," she said. "Would you like me to pull on a Glamour and stick around?"

"As difficult as I'm sure it was for you to be so concerned for someone who isn't yourself, I should be able to manage," he said.

Harrison grinned but decided that he'd had enough eavesdropping for one evening and headed into his bathroom, pulling his clothes off and murmuring the spell that had his bathtub filling with a steaming hot bubble bath.

...

Just over an hour later, Harrison walked into the sitting room, wearing black jeans and a dark green t-shirt.

Bellatrix was sitting in the far couch, near the window, nursing a glass of scotch. She looked a bit upset, and she was deliberately avoiding looking at Antonin, who was buried in a book with a large glass of his own scotch.

"Auntie, are you alright?" he asked as he walked further into the room.

She looked back at him and smiled a bit. "Come here," she said. "There's something I need to tell you about Serena Zabini before she comes over for dinner this evening."

Harrison nodded and took a seat on the couch next to her. "Is Papa in trouble?" he asked.

"Not in the conventional sense, no," Bellatrix said, setting aside her glass. "But he is the type of man to blame himself for anything that he thinks he did wrong, and he rarely forgives himself."

"What did he do?"

Bellatrix hesitated. "You might not guess it of your father, but he was very much in love with his wife from the first time they met each other," she said.

"Will you tell me about them?" Harrison asked, though he was clearly nervous about asking the question in the first place.

Bellatrix nodded and pulled Harrison into her lap as she did when he was younger. "You see, Harry," she said, grinning when the boy wrinkled his nose in distaste at the shortening of his name. "Your father was one of the lucky followers who's old enough to have attended Hogwarts with the Dark Lord as students. He was in his fourth year when the Dark Lord graduated, but Renee Delacroix was in her fifth year, and she'd only met the Dark Lord once."

"Only once?" Harrison asked.

"There was a war in France when she was young, and her parents sent her to live with extended family to be kept safe. She didn't have that many family members still alive, and what was left of her family was affiliated with the Light. She risked disownment just for being sorted into Slytherin," she said. "And she approached the Dark Lord a few weeks before he graduated to reassure him that, while she was unable to openly follow him, he had what little support she could offer. Antonin was with the Dark Lord when she came up to him, and he was immediately intrigued by her."

"Why?"

"I'd never heard of anyone going against their family so drastically," Antonin said without looking up from his book.

"That, and she apparently turned him down three times before she finally agreed to give him a chance," Bellatrix said with a wicked grin in Antonin's direction.

Antonin looked up at scowled at her. "Keep in mind that you're still young enough to be my daughter, little girl," he said, his voice glacial.

"And I should always respect the elderly?" she asked.

"I could just send you back to Narcissa instead of letting you have dinner with us," Antonin said. He set his book aside with a sigh and stood up, taking a seat on the couch next to Bellatrix. "We saw each other throughout the rest of our school years, and after I graduated, we went back to her family home in France."

"Why?" Bellatrix asked.

Antonin took Bellatrix's glass of scotch from her and leaned back on the couch. "As much as her family grew to hate her for things that were really out of her control, she still wanted their blessings," he said. "But when she brought me home and introduced me to her parents, she was immediately disowned, so I brought her back here to my Family Manor here in Arkangelsk."

"And then what?" Harrison asked curiously, quite comfortable in his aunt's hold.

"She told my mother what happened, and my mother, being who she was, convinced my father to arrange a bonding ceremony the next week," Antonin said. "She was brought into my family, and we found out maybe three days after the ceremony that she was pregnant. With our daughter."

Bellatrix nodded. "Mischa, right?" she asked. At a sharp, inquisitive look from Antonin, she shrugged. "There's a portrait of the three of you in your bedroom," she said. "You made a pretty picture together."

"I'll temporarily ignore the fact that you've been breaking through the locks on my bedroom door again, but we will be talking about it later," he said coldly. "Anyway, Serena always made sure that she and I were friendly with each other, even when Renee didn't like having her around," he said.

"Did she want anything more than being friends?"

"My blood, perhaps, or my family's reputation," Antonin said with a quiet scoff. "Though I always suspected that my father wanted me to bring her into the family, regardless of how friendly he was toward Renee," he said. "He tended to stick with the more traditional way of thinking, that the more valuable wife for me would be the woman who brought in political value rather than a woman I chose simply because I loved her."

"Oh," Harrison said with a frown. "But what happened to her and your baby?" he asked.

Antonin straightened up a bit and cleared his throat. "I believe Serena is going to arrive in a few minutes," he said. "Bella, if you could tie Harrison's hair back and pretend that you're a decent human being for the rest of the evening, that would be a blessing," he said.

She nodded and waited for a moment as Antonin stood up and straightened his robes. "I'm going to make sure that the house elf has everything under control before our guests arrive," he said, finishing off Bella's scotch and Vanishing the glass. "Behave yourself, Bella," he added before leaving the room.

"He's angry, isn't he?" Harrison asked as Bella started to braid his elbow-length hair.

"Maybe a little bit, but he's also sad," Bella said quietly as she finished braiding Harrison's hair and tied it so the braid wouldn't fall out. "Though I've never lost a family the way he has, so I can't tell you exactly how he feels," she said.

They sat in silence for a long moment before the fireplace flared to life with green flames and two people stepped out of the fireplace.

Harrison almost immediately recognized the woman he assumed to be Serena Zabini. At the very least, her almost gold, feline-like eyes were unmistakeable. She'd changed from her earlier gown into a charcoal grey dress that looked a bit more casual. He squirmed off of Bella's lap and walked over to her and Blaise. "Hello, Lady Zabini," he said with a bow. "My father stepped out just a second ago to make sure that everything is alright with the dinner," he said.

Serena nodded her head a bit in response. "I'm sure everything will be wonderful. It's a pleasure to be here," she said. "I don't believe Antonin introduced you earlier."

Harrison grinned up at her. "My name is Harrison Delacroix," he said.

"You're sure that's your full name?" Serena asked with a smirk. "You aren't forgetting the surname Dolohov?"

Bellatrix stood up and walked over to them, inspecting the woman closely. "It's on the adoption papers here in Russia, but for anyone British or connected with the British Ministry, his surname is Delacroix," she said coolly. "I'm -"

"Bellatrix Lestrange, yes. I remember you well, though I was under the assumption that you were a wanted felon."

"I am," Bellatrix said, sounding oddly proud of the fact. "But it's better to be wanted by the Ministry than sleeping with the head of some of their departments," she said.

Serena's eyes flashed warningly but ignored the woman, instead pushing her son forward a step. "I believe that you and Blaise have already met each other," she said.

Harrison nodded and grinned at the boy. He was wearing black slacks and a charcoal grey shirt that matched his mother's dress. "Hi," he said.

Blaise returned the grin but said nothing for a moment, looking almost nervously between Bellatrix and his mother.

Bellatrix looked over at Harrison and nodded toward the hallway. "Go cause some trouble," she said with a grin. "I've got something I'd like to discuss with Serena."

"And I you," Serena purred coldly, glancing at the two boys before Harrison led Blaise out of the room.

...

Just as they made their way out of the rom, Antonin stopped them. "Don't go too far," he said. "Dinner is going to be served in about five minutes," he said as he walked into the sitting room and joined Bellatrix and Serena in their conversation.

Harrison nodded and looked back at Blaise. "We can't do much in five muntse," he said. "We can go back to the sitting room, if you'd like/"

"Sure, that's okay," Blaise said with another easy grin. "Can I ask you something, then?" he asked.

"Only if I can ask you something too," Harrison said as they walked back into the sitting room and made themselves comfortable on the nearest couch, which was across the room from Antonin and the two women. Harrison noticed that Blaise edged away from the small patch of sunlight on the couch, but he said nothing about it, simply filing the information away in the back of his mind.

"You're not really French, are you?" Blaise asked.

A calm silence fell over the room and the two boys glanced over at the adults, all of whom were watching them almost curiously.

Harrison looked over at Antonin and arched an eyebrow, asking a silent question. When the older man nodded minutely and smirked, he grinned and looked back at Blaise. "I can speak French, if that's what you're asking," he said.

Antonin chuckled, pulling the attention of the two women back to him, though all three of them kept an ear on the boys' conversation.

"Yes, but you weren't born in France, and your ancestors aren't dead and buried in a graveyard in France, are they?" he asked.

Harrison paused for a moment. "I'm not sure," he said before inching closer to the darker boy. "Can you keep a secret?"

Blaise smirked and his amber eyes flashed gold briefly before he nodded. "I can keep a number of secrets, if you'd like to tell me more than one," he said as he and Harrison huddled together in a futile attempt to prevent the adults from continuing to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Do you promise to keep this a secret?" Harrison whispered as Blaise leaned forward so that their foreheads touched.

"I do," Blaise purred back, and a chill ran down Harrison's spine as their eyes locked.

"Antonin blood adopted me when I was a child," Harrison said, absently wondering why he so easily trusted the boy. "I don't know much about my parents, other than the fact that they abandoned me to keep themselves safe from someone," he said. "Antonin says that I'm British by birth, but Russian by blood," he added.

"That's brilliant," Blaise whispered. "Would you like to know a secret about me?" he asked.

Harrison merely smirked at the boy. "If you'd like to share it, I won't object," he said.

"Be careful, Blaise," Serena said warningly, and Blaise bit back a scowl when he looked up at his mother and saw the look she was sending him. "It would not do to tell your new friend all of your secrets, lest he find you boring afterward," she said.

Blaise nodded and returned to his huddled position next to Harrison, though he scowled when Serena said his name warningly. "I'll tell you a secret equal to yours after dinner, but for now, I'll just tell you that I've never met anyone who was British by birth and Russian by blood," he said.

Harrison quickly hid his confusion and grinned. "If Auntie Bella wasn't here, I could tell you secrets about her and we could figure out how to turn her hair yellow," he said.

Blaise laughed loudly at that. "Where is your kitten?" he asked.

"Our house elf told me that she's been in the garden for hours, and that she might be more of an outside cat than a domesticated one," Harrison said. "There's a koi pond in the garden, so she might be fishing when she grows up to be bigger than the fish," he added.

Blaise grinned again, and opened his mouth to say something, but a loud pop signaled the house elf's entrance into the room.

"Twizzle has set out dinner for Master and Master's son and Master's guests," the creature said, looking up at Antonin almost expectantly. "Is Master needing anything else?"

Antonin shook his head. "That will be all for now," he said, and the house elf nodded, disappearing with another loud pop.

Serena looked over at Antonin. "That is one of the most well-spoken house elves that I've ever seen," she said.

Antonin smirked and stood up, offering a hand to both Serena and Bellatrix. "I didn't want to risk the chance that the elf's speaking patterns would rub off on Harrison, so I contacted someone who made sure that the elf speaks more properly than others of its kind," he said as the two ladies took his hands and stood up. "Harrison, come along."

"Yes, father," Harrison said, standing up. He mimicked his father's gesture and offered a hand to Blaise, who grinned and stared at it as he stood up.

"I'm not a girl, Harrison," Blaise said. "But if you'd really like to hold my hand, I don't mind," he added, taking Harrison's hand and laughing when Harrison blushed lightly at the contact.

Harrison looked down at their intertwined hands - Blaise's hand was oddly cold. It wasn't extreme, but it was a bit unnerving. He buried his curiosity, though, and tried to stop blushing.

The group of them headed into the dining room, the adults more than slightly amused at the boy's antics.

As they walked into the dining room and took their seats, Blaise looked over at Harrison. "You and I are going to be very good friends," he said decisively, nodding as though to reassert his statement.


	6. Chapter 6

And soon the drama (and education at Hogwarts) will begin.

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

**Chapter 6**

The rest of his summer seemed to fly by, and soon it was only half an hour before he was to leave for Hogwarts that things seemed to slow down for Harrison. Antonin and Bellatrix were still panicking a bit now that they couldn't avoid facing the fact that Harrison was going to Hogwarts without them.

"Are you sure you're ready to go?" Antonin asked as he walked into Harrison's room and made sure that his trunk was packed. "There's still time for me to find a tutor for you if you want to be schooled here," he said.

Harrison pulled on a shirt and looked up at his father. "That's the fifth time this morning that you've asked me that, Papa," he said. "And Bella's been trying to sneak a bunch of Dark things to protect me. None of them have been legal, and I really don't want to end up in Azkaban before I even get sorted," he said.

Antonin shrugged and sat on the bed. "We're worried about you," he said. "You've never been away from home for more than a weekend, and even then, I could get to you if there was an emergency," he said.

"I'll write you and Bella every week," Harrison said, dropping onto the bed next to his father. "That's why you bought me Ulysses for my birthday, isn't it?" he asked, motioning at his window, toward the garden, where his Ural Owl had taken to hunting rabbits.

His father nodded, rubbing at the scruff on his cheek. "And you're sure that you're ready for this?" he asked. "You're absolutely sure you're fluent enough in English to make it without difficulty?" he asked.

"I've been speaking English since I was seven and Bella was sick of talking in Russian," Harrison said. "And Draco has been making sure that I don't say anything wrong in English," he added.

"Yes, but you've been spending more time with Blaise than Draco lately," Antonin said.

"Blaise said that he wants to learn how to speak Russian and how to do some of the Russian charms that you taught me, and he's teaching me a few other things in return."

"Does this have to do with the secret that he told you that you've refused to tell me?" he asked.

Harrison just grinned over at his father. "Well, you didn't tell me that Lady Serena and Blaise are vampires," he said. "If I promise it's not a dangerous secret, will you stop asking about what he told me?" he asked.

"I suppose," Antonin said quietly. He sat up and looked over at Harrison's trunk, which was locked shut. "You've got everything packed?" he asked.

"Yes, Papa," Harrison said with a sigh. He reached for his cloak and stood up, pulling the thing on. "Where's Bella?"

"With her husband in Belgium, doing an errand for the Dark Lord," Antonin said. "She told me to give you her best, and she's looking forward to seeing you during your Yule break," he said. "Before we leave, I want to give you something," he said suddenly, pulling a small box out of his pocket and handing it to Harrison.

He looked over the box and glanced up at Antonin, who nodded, before opening the box. Inside it was a ring similar to the one that Antonin wore. It was black ring with a small silver wolf's head on it, surrounded by a phrase in Russian, and their last name engraved on the inside. He looked up at Antonin. "Wait a minute," he said. "That's our family motto, and the wolf is on our crest. This is your heir ring, isn't it?" he asked.

Antonin nodded, smiling slightly. "You've always been my sole heir, but this makes the declaration public," he said. "The main reason I'm giving you this ring is because it works as an emergency Portkey back to this Manor in case you run into any trouble," he said.

"What kind of trouble?"

"Don't play dumb, kid," Antonin said. "You're well aware that there's a conflict going on in Britain, and you've already made yourself a few enemies just by being friends with Draco Malfoy," he said. "I don't want you to get cornered without a way to escape, because there are people may react badly to you because of your friends and some of your opinions," he said.

"Oh," Harrison said. "Right. But I know how to fight back a bit now, so I'll be safer, right?"

"You should be, yes, but there are still people who will lash out against you, either because you've seemed to align yourself with the Dark at a young age, or because they'll see you as a threat," he said. "Because of the political tensions and some legal problems in Britain with our family name, that ring will stay invisible to everyone but yourself until you use it as a Portkey," he said. "After that, it can't be hidden, so be careful."

Harrison frowned. "Couldn't I just take it off?" he asked.

Antonin shook his head. "Once you put the ring on, you can't take it off until I die. After that, you'll be expected to take over as the head of our family," he said.

Harrison nodded. He looked down at the ring and hesitated for a long moment before sliding it onto his right middle finger. "Thanks, Papa," he said with a smile.

He stayed silent for a moment before pulling Harrison into a tight hug, which his son was quick to return. After a few minutes, Antonin loosened his hold on Harrison and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

Harrison nodded again, wiping a few tears from his eyes. "I'm going to miss you."

"Me too, kid," Antonin said. He shrank Harrison's trunk and handed it to Harrison. "You remember how to return it to it's original size, right?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Good," he said. "Bella is coming back from Belgium tomorrow night, and she'll probably want to send you a gift, so I'll send Ulysses with whatever she wants to send you that isn't going to land you in prison," he said.

Harrison nodded. "Thanks," he said.

"Alright," Antonin said. "Let's get you off to the King's Cross so you can have enough time to find a good compartment."

"Draco said that he expects me to sit with him and his friends," he said as they started walking down the stairs to the sitting room.

"That's fine, as long as you don't let him force you into anything," Antonin said.

Harrison was silent for a long moment. "We're not going straight to the train stop, are we?" he asked.

"Not today," he said. "We're going to a few checkpoints and then the Leaky Cauldron and then I'll take you to the station," he said as he pulled a small gold necklace from one of his pockets and put it on. As soon as it was clasped shut, his appearance changed. He shrank a few inches and his hair lengthened a bit and turned to a dirty blonde color.

Harrison watched, fascinated, as his father's Delacroix Glamour settled into place. "What house do you think I'll be sorted into?" he asked.

Antonin shrugged. "The few other members of my family who went to Hogwarts instead of one of the Russian schools were sorted into Ravenclaw, but I was the only one sorted into Slytherin," he said. "You strike me as one of them, but whichever house it is, as long as you do well and get decent grades, there's nothing you need to worry about," he said.

Harrison smiled weakly. He always ended up more reserved when his father was blonde. As flawless as the man's disguise was, it was unnerving hearing his father's words coming from a stranger, whose voice was even different from Antonin's voice. "I don't plan on being anything less than the top of my class, don't worry," he said.

"Good boy," Antonin said quietly, pulling him close. "Hold still."

They Apparated to a small bar in Estonia, then to a field in Poland, an abandoned farmhouse in Germany, the waiting room of a brothel in France, and then the alley next to the Leaky Cauldron.

Antonin paused for a moment, doing his best to catch his breath.

"Are you alright?" Harrison asked, not moving out of his father's embrace.

He nodded, panting slightly. "Just a bit out of practice. It's been a while since I've traveled like this instead of just going to the aimed destination at once," he said. He tightened his arms around Harrison again, and the boy felt his father's arms trembling slightly.

Harrison closed his eyes, not saying anything. He tightened his hands around his father and focused on collecting his magic, wrapping it around himself and his father.

"I know what you're doing," Antonin said before he Apparated the two of them to King's Cross. "And thank you for that, but do not show off when you're in school," he said in French.

Harrison nodded.

"Remember, speak in English, stick to your studies, don't get into trouble, and write me often," Antonin said, still speaking French.

Harrison nodded again.

"You have your wand, yes?" Antonin asked.

"In the holster on my left arm, just where yours is," he said in a hushed Russian.

"Monsieur Delacroix," a gentle female voice said in French. "It is a pleasure to see you again. It's been quite a while."

Antonin turned around to see Narcissa Malfoy walking up, Lucius at her side. "Yes, it has," he said. "Work has kept me busy, I apologize."

"No need for that," Lucius said. "We all have our passions," he said.

Antonin nodded, watching Lucius almost expectantly.

The blond man didn't waste any time in continuing. "Before you return home, I was hoping to have a private word with you about some mutual business associates," he said. "It shouldn't take too long."

Harrison frowned, looking up at Antonin.

His father offered the Malfoy Lord a small smile. "Of course," he said. "As soon as I see my son off, I'll drop by your Manor," he said, resting a hand on Harrison's shoulder, silently conveying a message.

Narcissa nodded. "We didn't mean to interrupt," she said. "I look forward to catching up with you."

Antonin nodded, watching with an unwavering gaze as the two Malfoys Apparated away. Once they were gone, he squatted down in front of Harrison and held up a letter for him. "This is a very important letter that I was told to give you before you got on the train," he said. "There are no charms or jinxes on it, so it's safe, but it's also something that you need to keep to yourself. Do not let anyone else read it."

Harrison frowned, taking the letter and tucking it into the hidden pocket on the inside of his robes. "Why didn't you give it to me back at the Manor?" he asked.

Antonin hesitated for a moment. "It's from your godfather," he said, and Harrison immediately picked up on the meaning behind that statement. "You know how he can be about making sure that his wishes for privacy are honored, so he put a charm on it that makes it impossible to read the letter until you're on this island," he said. "When you open it, you're going to feel a prick in your finger, and that's going to ensure that it's you and it will make it impossible for anyone else to read the letter without it going up in flames," he added when Harrison glanced down at his pocket.

"I'll be careful with it," Harrison promised.

"And wait until you're alone before reading it. It has some sensitive information that no one outside the family needs to know," he said.

Harrison nodded and hugged his father around the neck. "I'm going to miss you, Papa," he said, reverting back to Russian.

Antonin smiled and hugged the boy back. A moment later, he pulled back and stood up. "Go get on the train," he said. "I'll see you at Yule."

Harrison nodded and headed toward the train without looking back at his father. The loud crack behind him told him that Harrison that Antonin had Apparated away. He made his way onto the train and headed straight for the back, wondering if he'd be able to get a compartment to himself so he could read the letter.

The last compartment on the train seemed to be empty, so Harrison walked in and dropped onto the seat, scooting over so he was sitting against the large window.

"I thought you'd be sitting with the Malfoy twat," Blaise said from his spot in the seat behind the compartment door.

Harrison jumped and looked over at the other boy, frowning when he saw the boy grinning at him. "I thought this one was empty."

Blaise shrugged. "I've been here for about an hour. My mum wanted to drop me off early so she could grab lunch in London before running a few errands," he said, pulling the door shut and sliding the lock shut.

"Is she doing okay?" he asked. "She hasn't come back to the Manor since that dinner with my dad," he said.

Blaise nodded, grinning again. "She told me that there's some tension between my mum and your father," he said. "She won't tell me anything else, though."

"Are you going to be okay in Hogwarts?" Harrison asked after hesitating for a moment. He didn't want to offend Blaise with the question, but from what he'd told him about vampires, particularly young ones like him, he would need a steady supply of fresh blood to stay healthy.

"Mum's going to be sending me care packages every week," he said, smirking suddenly. "Why? Are you offering to make sure I stay healthy?" he asked.

Harrison flushed bright red, not sure what to say. Finally, after a moment of being speechless, he shrugged a bit. "If it's an emergency and you promise that you're not going to land me in the hospital, I guess it would be okay," he said quietly.

"Good to know," Blaise said as the train jerked into motion and left the station.

As soon as they left the station, Harrison pulled the curtain on the window halfway shut, so that the other half of the compartment was blocked from the sun. The sunlight wouldn't burn Blaise, he'd learned, but it made him itch and, the longer he was exposed to it, the more painful the itch would get.

Blaise nodded his thanks but said nothing when someone pounded on the door to the compartment. He made no move to see who it was, instead turning back to the book on his lap.

Harrison frowned, hoping whoever it was would go away.

No such luck. Whoever it was just kept pounding on the door, and the longer it went unanswered, the harder they pounded.

Finally, after two minutes of hoping they'd leave, Harrison opened the door.

Draco was on the other side of the door, looking fed up. "It took you long enough," he said snippily when Harrison opened the door. He walked inside without waiting for an invitation. "Why are you brooding back here? There's room for you in my compartment, and Pansy and Theo want to meet you," he said. "Why do you have the curtain halfway shut?" he asked.

"Blaise has a headache," Harrison said, sliding the door shut and locking it again.

"Blaise?" Draco asked snottily. He looked over at Blaise, who hadn't looked up from his book.

Harrison bit back a smirk, though. It was obvious from the small, cold smirk on his face that the darker boy was listening to the conversation, and probably somehow watching Draco's every move.

"I met him this summer," he said. "His mum knows my father."

Draco eyed the boy for a moment. "There's something weird about him," he said. "Come sit with me."

"Draco, my father and I had dinner at your house last week. I haven't seen Blaise in nearly two," Harrison said. "I'll come see you before the train stops, but I want to talk to Blaise for a while," he said.

"Why?" Draco asked with a sneer. "He looks like a mongrel."

At that, Blaise looked up from his book and pinned a vicious glare on the blond boy. "Mind your tongue," he said in a cold hiss.

All blood immediately drained from Draco's face. "What- Harrison, he's a leech!" he snapped, glaring at Blaise.

Blaise smiled coldly and set the book aside. His canines had sharpened a bit and Harrison saw the tips of his fangs start to drop from their hidden sheaths in his mouth behind his canines. His eyes had brightened enough that they were glowing. "I don't react well to being insulted," he said coldly.

"Blaise," Harrison said gently before frowning. He was scared by this new development, but clearly not as terrified as Draco, who'd lost the ability to form a single word. "Blaise," he said again. "Calm down. You're going to get in trouble if you get caught."

Blaise didn't seem to be listening, though, because he backed Draco against the compartment door. "Here's what you're going to do," he said coldly, brushing Harrison's hand off his shoulder when Harrison tried to pull him back. "You're going to keep your mouth shut about this, and you're going to leave me alone. If I find out that you even thought about telling someone about this, or if you bother me, I will bleed you dry and leave your corpse for the maggots," he hissed. "Am I clear?"

Draco nodded slightly, his body visibly trembling. "Perfectly clear," he whispered.

"Good," Blaise said. "Now get out. Harrison will visit you when he's done speaking with me."

Draco nodded again and scrambled to unlock the door. As soon as it was open, he ran out faster than Harrison had ever seen him move before.

Before anyone else could see Blaise like this, Harrison slammed the door shut and locked it again. He turned back to Blaise, who was watching him almost curiously, and Harrison suddenly had the feeling that he was a small animal being inspected by a predator. "Blaise?" he asked quietly after a moment.

"Harrison," Blaise responded in a detached voice. He still hadn't reverted back to his usual appearance, but he seemed more lucid.

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?"

"No," Blaise said. "Just don't make any sudden movements for a while," he said.

Harrison nodded and walked over to the window, pulling the curtain almost completely shut. "How come you still look like that?"

"Strong emotions and increased heartbeats get me excited in close quarters," Blaise said, sitting back down. "It's because I'm still young and I haven't had the time or experience I need to keep myself completely in check," he said. "I'm still lucid, but it's going to take a little while for me to get back to normal."

"Okay," Harrison said, sitting next to Blaise. "Can I ask you a question, then?" he asked after a brief hesitation.

"Sure."

"Can you extend your fangs all the way?" he asked.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"You'll be in control, right?"

Blaise nodded, frowning a bit. "I just don't want to scare you."

Harrison shrugged. "I'm scared right now, but not as much as Draco," he said with a half-smile. "I won't make sudden movements, and I won't say anything."

Blaise eyed him oddly for a moment before nodding. He closed his eyes and his fangs slid out completely. After a few seconds, the fangs stopped moving and Blaise opened his eyes, watching Harrison carefully.

"Brilliant," Harrison said with a nervous smile. He found himself edging back a bit, but otherwise he didn't move.

The darker boy's fangs were thin and a bit curved, not unlike those of a viper. They seemed to be almost four inches long, and there was a dark red, almost black line in the middle of them.

Harrison's brow furrowed at the line. "You're venomous?" he asked.

Blaise nodded slightly and closed his eyes again. His fangs receded and his canines reverted to their original shape. When his fangs were completely hidden again, he opened his eyes, which were still unnaturally bright, and rubbed his jaw a bit. "It numbs the area around the bite wound so that any diseases in the blood are cured and it makes sure that whoever I'm feeding from doesn't move. That way, they don't pull away and rip their throats open," he said.

"Will they still extend when you're drinking your mother's care packages?" Harrison asked.

"Out of instinct, yeah."

"And will they get bigger?"

Blaise nodded. "They won't get longer than eight inches," he said. "And once I'm fully grown, the venom will be even stronger. My mum says that the people she feeds from end up getting a euphoric feeling, so they'll be more inclined to offer her their blood again. It's a trait that comes from the Middle Ages when we'd have harems of donors who were immune to the plague," he said.

"Oh," Harrison said quietly. He leaned back on the seat. "Are you going to be okay?"

He nodded again. "I just have a headache and I'm tired, that's all," he said, once again closing his eyes. "I'll be fine after I take a nap."

Harrison said nothing for a moment. He stood up and pulled the curtain all the way shut before stretching out on the other bench. A nap didn't sound too bad, all things considered. "I'll wake you up before we get there," he said quietly, and Blaise hummed quietly before the two of them both drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm claiming no ownership. Feedback is always loved!

(By the way, check out my author's profile for some updated story information.)

Just out of curiosity, would a LiveJournal or Wordpress account be better to post my stories in the event that this places gives them the ax?

**Chapter 7**

Harrison woke up with a start when he heard someone knocking on the compartment door. He stretched, looking over at Blaise, and frowned when he noticed that the other boy was still fast asleep. Without saying anything, he opened the door to the compartment, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Draco?" he asked quietly, not wanting to wake Blaise. "Do you want to come inside?"

Draco shook his head, looking pale at the mere thought. "Not with that…that thing in there," he said coldly, though he looked away from Harrison when he noticed the boy frowning slightly. "He hasn't hurt you, has he?"

"He's my friend," Harrison replied easily.

"That's not an answer," he said.

"I'm fine, Draco," Harrison said, deliberately ignoring the look he got in response that answer. "Was there something that you wanted to tell me?" he asked.

"Other than to make sure that all your blood stays inside your body?" Draco asked quietly. "We're going to arrive in about an hour, and we're supposed to be dressed in our school robes when we arrive at Hogwarts," he said.

"Thanks," Harrison said, offering the other boy a small smile. At Draco's continued hesitation, he glanced over at Blaise, who was still fast asleep. "He's not going to hurt you unless you threaten him," he said. "And he's a good friend."

"I thought we were friends, though. I had you first," Draco said, his voice as close to a whine as Draco's Malfoy upbringing would allow - since whining was on the extensive list of things that Malfoys didn't do. "And now he stole you away from me," he said.

Harrison grinned at that. "Draco, I'm still your friend," he said.

"But you like him better than me now, don't you?"

Harrison shook his head. "No," he said, thinking about how to phrase his answer without offending either Draco or Blaise. "Do you remember, at your eighth birthday party, when Aunt Bella gave you that grey gelding?" he asked.

Draco nodded slowly, clearly confused about where Harrison was going with the story.

"You've had Blue since you were four and Blue was just a mare, but for the next two months, Orion was your favorite horse?" he asked, and Draco nodded again. "This is kind of like that. We're still friends, Draco, and I don't like you any less, but Blaise is a new friend," he said.

"Fine," Draco said after a long moment. "I'll even try to be nice to him. But if he hurts you, you're not allowed to be friends with him anymore," he said, glaring at Harrison to make sure the slightly younger boy understood.

Harrison nodded, smiling slightly. "Thank you."

The blond just hummed, pursing his lips together and looking eerily like his father at that moment. "Make sure you're both wearing your school robes. The prefects are going to come around in half an hour to make sure that everyone's ready."

"I will," he said.

Draco nodded, glancing inside the compartment with an uncertain frown. He didn't say anything, though, choosing to nod at Harrison before heading back to his own compartment.

Harrison closed the door, locking it shut, and looked over at Blaise, wondering how best to wake up the Italian boy. Antonin had warned him against showing off, so that ruled out any of the nonverbal or wandless jinxes that Bella had taught him - and most of what Antonin had taught him, since most of the jinxes were technically Dark. Even if it were just Blaise in the compartment, he didn't really want anyone to know how much his father and Bella had taught him. Frowning to himself, he walked over to Blaise and nudged the boy gently on the shoulder.

No response.

He repeated the action.

Still no response.

Smirking suddenly to himself, Harrison leaned down so that his face was almost touching Blaise's face. Without any warning, Harrison licked the darker boy's face, from his mouth to just below his eyebrow.

At the contact, Blaise jolted awake, clearly confused, and looked around as Harrison pulled his shrunken trunk out of his pocket and quickly restored it to its original size. "What happened?" he asked.

"We're almost there," Harrison said, turning around to face the other boy, adopting an innocent expression as Blaise frowned and wiped his face.

"Did you just… did you _lick_ me?" he asked, eyeing Harrison oddly as he wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

He shrugged, a small smile leaking through his facade of innocence. "I tried to wake you up another way, but it didn't work and I figured it would be a bad idea to wake you up with a jinx," he said. "Draco said that we need to change into our school robes before we get there," he added, pulling his own robes out of his trunk

Blaise nodded, his eyes narrowing a bit at the mention of Draco's name, but said nothing. Instead, he pulled his own robes out of his trunk.

The two of them got dressed in a comfortable silence.

Once they were both in their school robes and they'd settled in for the remainder of the trip, Harrison frowned, looking at Blaise's mouth as a curiosity overtook him.

Blaise looked up at him, a confused frown on his face. "Is something wrong?"

"You said your fangs will grow to be eight inches, right?" he asked, not bothering with any attempts at subtlety.

Blaise smirked. "I said they won't get any longer than eight inches," he said. "There's a difference."

"What's the difference, then?" Harrison asked.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because if your fangs are eight inches long, wouldn't they just pierce through the bottom of your mouth?" he asked.

Blaise grinned a bit. "Those fangs are only supposed to extend when I'm feeding on a person," he said. "It makes sure that they can't escape," he added.

"But the length-"

"It depends on how strong I am," he said, frowning slightly and looking like he was trying to remember something that he'd been taught a long time ago. "Until I turn twenty, I'm technically considered an infant vampire," he said. "Once I reach that age, I'll have grown into my strength and I'll start learning how to control it. The inner fangs will have stopped growing, and the length is one way to tell how strong a vampire is," he said.

Harrison nodded, absorbing the information, completely fascinated with what he was learning.

"The venom gets more potent, but the shorter the fangs are, the more powerful the vampire is," Blaise said. "My mum's fangs are the same length as mine, and she's almost sixty years old."

At that, Harrison's jaw dropped. "Your mum's almost sixty?" he asked. "She looks younger than Narcissa Malfoy!"

Blaise laughed. "Eternal youth is one of the perks," he said. "One of the best ways to lure in willing victims is by seducing them, so vampires peak when they're at their most physically flawless. Mum told me that the oldest vampire she met was over a thousand years old, but she doesn't look more than forty." He paused. "Why are you so fascinated with my fangs?" he asked.

Harrison shrugged, genuinely confused himself. "I'm not sure," he said. "But they're really cool."

Blaise laughed again. "That's not the response most people have," he said.

"I guess it's a bit weird," Harrison said.

"More than a bit," Blaise said, but he didn't press the matter further. Instead, he chose to pick up his book again and return to his reading.

Harrison glanced at Blaise's mouth again before pulling a book of his own out of his trunk. Suddenly remembering the letter Antonin had given him before he'd got on the train, he plucked it out of his pocket and looked over the envelope. When he found nothing overly remarkable about it, he frowned and tucked it back into his pocket. He'd read it that night, when he was alone in bed.

…

When the train stopped and the students started filing off, Blaise and Harrison headed off the train, sticking close to each other as they watched the other students get off the train.

"Firs' years over here!" a loud voice yelled, and Harrison looked over at the source of the voice. "Firs' years! In th' boats!" The man was enormous - he had to have at least some giant blood in him to be that big. The man looked around at the group of first years with a bright smile as he motioned for them to get into a number of small boats. "Four t' th' boats!"

Harrison watched with a frown as a black-haired boy who looked oddly similar to himself ran up to the man and hugged him around the waist as much as he could. "Hagrid!" he said, grinning up at the man.

"Jamie!" the man said with a grin, hugging him back.

Blaise scoffed quietly and took hold of Harrison's hand. At an inquisitive look from the shorter boy, he smirked. "We need to get to a boat," he said quietly.

Harrison nodded and allowed the other boy to lead him into a boat. When he saw Draco, flanked by a girl with a sour expression and a brunette boy, he stopped and smiled at him.

Draco returned the smile with a small one of his own. He took a few steps toward Harrison before he noticed Blaise watching them with a curious, yet almost predatory look on his face. The blond faltered a bit, choosing instead to get on a boat with his two companions.

"He did say that he's going to try to be nice," Harrison said as he and Blaise got onto a boat. They were accompanied by Vincent Crabbe and Greg Goyle, both of whom smiled dumbly at Harrison before returning to their conversation, which seemed to be a debate about whether chocolate frogs were better than acid pops.

"He can try as hard as he can to be nice," Blaise said quietly. "But that doesn't mean that anything is going to change. He seems to forget that first impressions are lasting." At Harrison's scowl, he frowned. "I'm not going to pounce on him the second we're alone together, Harrison," he said. "It just means that he and I will probably never be on good terms, like he is with you," he said.

Knowing that that was likely the only answer he'd get from the darker boy, Harrison nodded and did his best to relax as the boats, with a few words from Hagrid, started to move across a lake. Once across the lake, Hagrid herded the first years inside the hall of a castle and into a large room together before leaving.

They were met inside by an older, stern-looking woman who seemed almost tired, despite the fact that the school year had yet to start. "Hello, students, and welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Professor McGonagall," she said, and everyone immediately fell silent, waiting for her to continue speaking. "As first years, you'll be sorted before dinner. Once we're done here, I'll take you all to the Great Hall, where I'll call out your names and you'll then be sorted. Are there any questions?"

"Do we have to fight a troll?" a lanky redhead asked from the back.

Harrison looked back at the boy, not saying anything. He wasn't too impressed with what he saw - the boy was thin and had the look of someone who was constantly hungry, though he was clearly well-fed. He was standing next to the boy that had hugged the Hagrid creature before getting on the boat.

"One of the many Weasleys," Draco hissed from where he was standing, just behind Harrison and Blaise.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mister Weasley," the Professor said. "When I call your name, you will sit on a stool and put on the Sorting Hat. We haven't had a troll in the castle in over seventy years," he said. "Now, if there are no more questions?" she asked, only to be answered by silence. "Good. Now, I trust you are all old enough to stand silently in line until I call your names." That wasn't a question, and she motioned for the first years to follow her.

Harrison looked over at Blaise, who offered him a small smile before they moved with the group into the main hall.

Inside the main hall were four long tables filled with students, and at the far end of the room was a table with the older people, who Harrison assumed were the professors. Judging from the long beard and the incessantly twinkling blue eyes of the old man in the center of that table, he was the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

Harrison did his best to suppress a glare at the old man - from what little his father had told him, Dumbledore had been a part of the plot that ended up with his birth parents abandoning him. He bit his bottom lip and looked away from the man, choosing instead to focus his attention on a stool in the center of the room. On top of the stool was a worn hat that looked liked it would fall apart the moment someone touched it. He felt Blaise squeeze his hand and glanced down at their still-intertwined hands.

"Are you alright?" Blaise asked in a whisper.

He nodded. "Tired, I guess," he replied just as quietly.

"Right," Blaise said, though his tone easily conveyed his disbelief.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and looked over the students, and all the whispered conversations they'd been having stopped immediately. "Please behave yourselves," she said.

The old man stood up, holding up a hand, and the entire hall immediately fell silent, their attention solely focused on their Headmaster. He started to say something, likely a speech welcoming the students to the next new year, but Harrison tuned him out. Instead, he found himself shifting a bit until his side was pressed flush to Blaise's side.

The Italian boy glanced over him, a concerned look etched on his face. He said nothing, though, and just tightened his hold on Harrison's hand. When Dumbledore had finished speaking, and after the hat had finished singing some inane song, Blaise tugged lightly on Harrison's hand, pulling him back into reality. "The Professor just called Hannah Abbot," he said quietly.

Harrison nodded and focused back on the situation in front of him. It was all wholly uneventful, and he found it boring to watch the other first years wander up to the stool, put the hat on, only for the hat to scream out one of the four houses. Nevertheless, he jumped slightly and felt a small thrill run through him when Professor McGonagall called his name. He wandered up to the hat, eyeing it warily before sitting on the stool and pulling it onto his head.

"_Harrison Delacroix. My, my, but this is a pleasure_," a voice said, sounding like it was coming from inside his head, and Harrison frowned, clenching his eyes shut.

_Just get this over with,_ he thought at the hat, only for it to chuckle in response.

"_Patience, young man. It's not often I'm presented with a challenge like you. Now, you are quite the puzzle for me, as you would do well in each of the four houses. You possess the bravery and nerve that would lead to success among the lion's den, but your mind betrays a lack of willingness to stick with the morals that so define the lions. You are loyal, but the badgers value patience and fair play, traits that you seem to tend to disregard,_" it said.

_That just leaves the birds and the snakes, right?_ Harrison asked mentally.

The hat chuckled and made a noise that sounded like an affirmative before continuing to speak. "_You would succeed best in one of those two houses, though there is a sense of ambition in you that is too dominant. You would likely be isolated amongst the ravens, and that leaves only one house for you. Therefore, for you, it's going to be home amongst the snakes,_" it said. Without giving Harrison any time to react, it straightened and yelled, "SLYTHERIN!" for the entire hall to hear. "_Do come find me again, Harrison. I do so enjoy puzzles like you,_" it murmured as Harrison took it off and made his way over to the table on the far left side of the room.

The students making up the table were applauding quietly, and a few of them offered Harrison small smiles as he sat down at the end of the table.

The rest of the sorting went in a similar manner, with the hat spending varied amounts of time speaking with the students - though none of their conversations took longer than a minute or two, he noticed. Some students, like Draco and the redhead Weasley with the unfortunately boring first name, Ronald, were named almost immediately. The two of them went to Slytherin and Gryffindor, respectively. Other times, as with a bushy-haired brunette girl that some of the other Slytherins immediately identified as a muggleborn, the hat took almost as long with her as it had when speaking with Harrison. Finally, it sorted her into Gryffindor.

After about half an hour, all the first years had been sorted into one of the four houses. Draco and his two friends, Pansy and Theodore, had all been sorted into Slytherin and they'd taken their seats on the bench across from Harrison and Blaise. The Italian boy seemed more relaxed as they all ate dinner, and he and Draco were holding a decent enough conversation with each other.

The girl, Pansy, had decided to focus her attention on Harrison, apparently fascinated with his accent and, oddly enough, his hair. He indulged her, though, despite finding her a bit tedious and self-involved.

The rest of dinner was a decent enough affair, though it was much longer than Harrison thought it needed to be. As the event started to come to an end about two hours later, Harrison found himself starting to drift. He leaned more fully against Blaise, who glanced over at him with a surprised expression at the action but didn't say anything.

Draco, on the other hand, wasn't as permissive of the behavior. "Harrison?" he asked quietly, though the question caught the attention of the few people sitting around them.

Harrison opened his eyes and straightened, but he didn't move away from Blaise as Draco had clearly hoped he would. "Yes?" he asked, looking over at the other boy, who was scowling at him.

"Are you well?" Draco asked.

"Just a bit tired," he replied, completely unaffected by the look that Draco was leveling on him. "Why?"

"Because you're treating Zabini like a living pillow," he said.

Harrison just smiled a bit and shrugged. "Like I said, I'm just a bit tired."

Draco frowned, opening his mouth to say something else when the Headmaster stood up and cleared his throat.

"Now, we don't want to keep you all much longer, as you've got classes starting tomorrow. Students, please head back to your Houses. First years, the prefects will take you to your common rooms," he said. With that said, everyone in the hall started moving.

Harrison and Blaise stayed with Draco and his friends, as one of the older Slytherins walked over to the group of them, followed by three other first years. With a motion for them to follow him, they all walked with the boy through the halls, into an area that Harrison was sure used to be a dungeon of sorts. They stopped about ten minutes after leaving the Great Hall, all of them standing in front of a bare spans of wall and the older student turned to face them.

"This is the entrance to the Common Room. If anyone finds out about the location and gets in, it will be on your heads," he said. "The password for this month is _viperidae_. It changes every month, so make sure you always know what it is," he said before repeating the password. The wall slid open and they all walked inside. "First years are over there," he said, pointing to a pair of plain wooden doors to the left. "Boys on the far left, girls on the right. They're warded for privacy, and behind each door are the rooms for you. There are two beds per room, but choose carefully. Whoever you choose now will be the one you share a room with until you graduate. Any questions?"

There were none, so the older boy left them on their own. He made his way to one of the many leather couches in the rest of the common room.

Blaise nudged Harrison, catching his attention. "Did you want to room with me?" he asked gently, doing his best to ignore the glare that Draco was leveling on him.

Harrison nodded. "Sure," he said, not thinking much about the decision. If Draco was seriously angry with him, they'd settle it in the morning. For now, all he seemed to be able to think about was reading the letter in his pocket and then getting some sleep. "I'll follow you."

Blaise sent a smirk in Draco's direction before heading into the boy's dorm hallway. He led Harrison to the last room in the short hall and watched with an oddly fascinated look as Harrison walked over to the bed furthest from the door. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked as the two of them looked around the room.

The room was quite nice - there were two canopy beds, with their trunks at the end of them. There was an oak door next to the door that they'd come in through that Harrison assumed led to the bathroom.

The walls were a pale green, and the floor was a black carpet. Across the room from their beds was a fireplace with a fire already burning. There weren't any pictures or portraits on the walls, but if it really started bothering them, Harrison supposed that either he or Blaise would have some sent from one of their homes.

What really had Harrison's attention, though, were the beds. They were a size smaller than Harrison's queen bed back at his home, and the canopy curtains were a thick material in a dark green that accented the room nicely, and the comforter looked incredibly soft.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said finally, walking over and setting his wand on the nightstand next to the bed he'd chosen. "I just used some of my magic to give my father energy when we were coming to King's Cross this morning, and I always forget how tired that makes me. I'll be fine in the morning, really," Harrison said.

"You're sure?"

Harrison nodded, smiling over at Blaise as he sat on his bed. It was almost as comfortable as his bed back home, and he could feel himself starting asleep as he laid back on the bed. "I promise," he said.

Blaise frowned a bit but seemed to accept the answer. He walked over to his trunk and pulled out his pajamas, quickly getting ready for bed.

Harrison tiredly pulled his robes off and stripped down to his boxers, tucking the letter under his pillow and pulling the drapes around his bed shut. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.


	8. Chapter 8

Damn. I think this is the longest fanfic chapter that I've written in a while (it was over 7000 words at last tally). There is some vampire stuff in the chapter that might be a bit… weird. (It's important to the plot, but kind of strange, even for me.) And in this we have our first taste of the Dark Lord in a few chapters. (Let me know if the letter seems too OOC - it kept bugging me, but I wasn't entirely sure how to fix it.)

Oh, pretend there's a disclaimer here. Enjoy! (and feedback is always loved!)

**Chapter 8**

Harrison woke up a few hours later feeling completely refreshed. He cast a quick wandless _Tempus_ charm and frowned when he realized that it was only half past five - breakfast wouldn't start for another hour and a half at least, and the classes didn't start until eight in the morning. He frowned, wondering what to do to entertain himself until then. He'd already read through the books that were required reading for his first year, and Antonin had told him that he wasn't allowed to bring any books from home until after Yule. Partly because the books were in Russian and he was supposed to be masquerading as being from France, but mostly because Antonin knew that the books that Harrison would bring were all illegal in Britain.

He'd have enough time for a bath before breakfast, he finally decided, crawling out of bed and staying quiet so as not to disturb Blaise. When he'd pulled some clean clothing from his trunk and tossed it on the bed, he frowned, his gaze straying to the pillow, underneath which was the letter from the Dark Lord. He'd probably have enough privacy in the bathroom, he decided before snatching it out from under his pillow and heading into the bathroom.

The bathroom itself was just as almost-comfortable as the bedroom. It was built for only one person to use at a time, with just one bathtub, one toilet, and one sink. The entire room was decorated in a similar manner to the bedroom area with the pale green walls, but the floor in here was a dark brown wood as opposed to the carpet in the bedroom.

Murmuring a phrase in Russian, Harrison grinned when the tub started filling with a steaming hot bubble bath. It wasn't home, but he figured that a few simple charms could make it almost as good. He waited until the tub was almost completely full before getting into the bath, hissing in delight at the temperature of the water. It didn't take him long to get settled, and as soon as he was comfortable, he took the letter off the counter and opened it up.

Just the sight of the elegantly scrawled handwriting that made up the letter sent a shiver down Harrison's spine. It almost seemed like he was able to feel the man's power by simply looking at the letter - though he still wasn't entirely convinced that the Dark Lord was entirely human. It had been a few years since Harrison had last seen the Dark Lord - just after Yule on his ninth birthday - and he was still at least partially convinced that he was some kind of angel. He found himself absently wondering when he would see the Dark Lord again, and then he promised himself that he would impress the man when he did see him again.

After promising himself that, Harrison turned his complete focus back to the letter in his hands.

_Harrison Dolohov,_

_It has been a number of years since you and I have last spoken, yet I have been keeping track of your progress and I am rather impressed. Your ability is of a caliber rarely seen, and your father tells me that your level of self-discipline often matches his own. At such a young age, that feat alone is quite remarkable, and I expect to see much more of your potential as you mature as a Wizard._

_Your father has expressed his concern regarding my insistence that you attend Hogwarts when you could have more easily attended Durmstrang, or one of the smaller schools in Russia. I have my reasons for this, and while they do not concern your father, I realize that I cannot expect you to successfully participate in my scheming unless you know what is at stake and what is expected of you. There are a number of things that I expect you to accomplish during your schooling at Hogwarts, but because of your age and the importance of making sure that you are properly educated, I will have to allow you some leniency. This is not something that I allow to my other followers, but your father has proven his loyalty numerous times before and he has assured me that you seek my favor as well. My plans that involve you have all been delayed a short while, and you will have a chance to be briefed and ask questions of me come Yule time._

_Because you are not going to be involved in anything other than the standard education at Hogwarts, I expect you to be at the top of your class. Your father is an intelligent man, and you are showing much of the promise that he did when he was your age._

_While you are at Hogwarts, there are a few key people you need to be aware of. _

_The first is your Potions professor, Severus Snape. He is an intelligent man and he belongs to me, but his loyalties are in question. You will be safe enough around him, but I do not want you alone with him if you can help it. He harbors some prejudice toward your birth parents, and though all ties between you and them have been properly severed, you must always be on your guard with him. If you find him acting in a way that is counterproductive to what you know of my cause, I would appreciate being informed of such._

_The Headmaster is also not to be trusted. I do not want you to ever be alone with him. He has a number of ways of harming children and I do not want to see you fall victim to him. You are far too valuable to lose, particularly at such a young age. Your father is fond of saying that if he loses you, there is nothing holding him to sanity; and after his years in Azkaban, I am well aware just how true that statement is. He cannot lose you, and I find you far too fascinating to tolerate Albus Dumbledore stealing you away._

_Finally, and I do not know if your father has told you, but you had a twin brother. His name is James Charlus Potter, Jr., and he has grown to be much like the father for whom he was named. I expect he will be sorted into Gryffindor. He, too, poses a danger, though not nearly as much as the two others. I am well aware that Antonin has pressed the importance of keeping the knowledge of your blood adoption secret from the Potters and the others who are actively working against my cause._

_As I previously mentioned, you will not be involved in any of my plans until after Yule. Because of this, I expect you to be at the top of your class. Do not give me reason to doubt your father's confidence in you._

_If you for some reason find a need to contact me between now and your winter holidays, send an owl with the information to your father and he will send it on to me._

_Lord Voldemort_

Harrison read the letter a few times before the meaning sank in. He wasn't entirely sure why the man had written just to tell him that when Antonin could have easily relayed the message himself. He frowned, running his hands over the letter and feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at the feel of dried ink on the parchment.

"Snape, Dumbledore and James Jr.," he said quietly, committing the names to memory as he returned the letter to its envelope and set it back on the counter. No doubt Draco would have some more names to add to this list of undesirables, but for now he was confident that he'd be able to avoid the other three men. At least, he'd be fine until he had potions class. Hopefully he'd be able to just blend in with the other Slytherins and the Snape man wouldn't bother him too much.

As he did his best to convince himself that everything would be fine, Harrison allowed himself to drift off a bit.

What seemed like less than a minute later, there was a knock on the bathroom door that startled Harrison back into awareness. He cast another _Tempus_ and found that he'd been almost asleep for just over an hour. The temperature of the bath hadn't dissipated at all, and for that, Harrison was grateful. He got out of the shower, absently mumbling the counter to the charm and wrapping himself in a plush green towel as the bathtub drained.

Blaise knocked on the door again and Harrison grabbed his letter before heading to the door.

"I didn't keep you waiting long, did I?" he asked.

"No," the Italian boy said. "I just woke up five minutes ago. Why? How long have you been up?" he asked.

"Not too long," Harrison said, stepping aside to allow the other boy entrance to the bathroom. "Do you want to head to the Great Hall together?" he asked.

Blaise shrugged, nodding a bit. "Sure," he said. "I won't take too long, maybe ten minutes."

Harrison nodded. Once the bathroom door closed behind Blaise, he put the letter in the drawer of his nightstand, locking it and warding it with a particularly painful stinging hex that Bellatrix had taught him last Halloween. When he was sure that no one but him would be able to get into the drawer, he went about changing into his clothes and his school robes, which had been emblazoned with the Slytherin crest while he was asleep. While he was struggling to get his hair into a braid, Blaise came out of the bathroom completely dressed.

He grinned over at Harrison, watching as the younger boy tried - and failed - to braid his hair. "Would you like any help, Harrison?" he asked, stepping over to stand just behind him. Without waiting for an answer, he slapped Harrison's hands away from his head and quickly did his hair in a braid. "There," he said about five minutes later.

Harrison reached back and felt the braid, frowning slightly when he realized it wasn't just a traditional braid. "What did you do?" he asked.

"It's called a dutch braid," he said as they walked out of their room and started making their way out of the Slytherin common room. "I've got a few cousins who like having their hair braided. Yours is almost as long as theirs, too, so it was easy."

"Cousins?" Harrison asked curiously.

Blaise shrugged again. "It's easier to call them cousins than step-siblings," he said. "And they never really like me that much after my mother and their fathers, um, went their separate ways."

"Delicate way of putting that," Draco said coolly as he walked out of the Slytherin den behind the two of them. "Why don't you just come out and say it instead of trying to be polite about it?"

"Draco, stop," Harrison said, deliberately putting himself between Draco and Blaise before an argument could start. "You said you were going to be nice," he said, glaring at the blond. "And it's too early in the morning for you two to start fighting."

The tense silence lasted for a long minute, until Harrison hissed, annoyed at the both of them. "Both of you, leave me the hell alone until you've settled this shit," he snapped, pushing past them both and making his way back to the Great Hall on his own.

When he got there, only three other students - all of them older Ravenclaws - and the professors were there.

Harrison sat at the far end of the Slytherin table, deliberately ignoring the way the Headmaster watched his every move. When he sat down and looked up at the staff table, though, he found that three people were watching him with an almost curious look on their faces.

The first was Dumbledore, and he was by far the most irritating of the three. When he and Harrison made eye contact for a moment, the old man's eyes were twinkling madly. Harrison could feel the man's magic spreading throughout the hall, and he grudgingly gave the man a smidgen of respect. He didn't like the man at all, but anyone who had that much magic at their disposal was dangerous, regardless of the image they presented to the public, and he wanted to stay away from the man as long as possible. The Headmaster's magic was too light, and when Harrison felt it reach out and lightly touch his own magic, it felt almost like he'd been burned. He scowled and pulled his magic away from the Headmaster's, wrapping it around himself and hoping the man wouldn't try to repeat the action. He avoided looking up at the Headmaster again, but he could still feel him watching him.

Blaise dropped onto the bench next to Harrison, offering him a small, almost apologetic smile.

"Where's Draco?" Harrison asked quietly when he noticed that the Malfoy hadn't come into the Great Hall.

"He decided to leave me alone when you aren't there to protect him," he said, though there was an oddly satisfied glint in his eyes that Harrison didn't entirely trust. Blaise ignored the dubious look that Harrison sent him, instead casting a glance up at the table where the Professors sat. "You're quite popular with the Professors already," he observed before starting to fill the plate in front of him with scrambled eggs and sausages. "One of them is the Headmaster and the other one is the Potions professor, but I don't recognize the third man," he said with a frown.

Harrison shook his head. "I don't either," he said, glancing back up at the Head table. "He's probably the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. Father told me that the position has been cursed for years, and he won't be around at the end of the year."

Blaise hummed, saying nothing as they started eating.

The Hall started to fill up quickly after that, and once all the students had come into the hall, the heads of each house started handing out the schedules to their first years.

When Severus Snape walked up to Harrison and Blaise, though, he had an oddly irritated look on his face. "Delacroix," he said in a tight voice, sounding almost like he wanted to snap at the boy.

"Sir?" Harrison asked, adopting an innocent expression as he took his schedule from the man.

"I knew your mother before she died," he said in a slightly hushed voice. "She was a brilliant woman. You've got big shoes to fill."

Harrison glared at the man, taking his schedule from him and saying nothing.

"He doesn't like talking about his mother with complete strangers, Professor," Blaise said without looking up from his own schedule. "Whether they claim to have known her or not."

Snape glared at the Italian boy's back, and he seemed to get angrier when the boy seemed completely unaffected by the glare. "Watch your tongue, Mister Zabini," he said coldly. "I am you head of house and I do not tolerate disrespect from my students."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Professor," Blaise said in an almost sing-song voice as he reached for his second biscuit of the morning.

Harrison bit back a smirk, not saying anything as he looked over his schedule. He stayed silent until he heard Snape move away, and only when he could no longer feel the man's glare on his back did he look over at Blaise. "I think we have the same schedule," he said, glancing over the other boy's class schedule.

"All the first years have the same classes. It's going to be like that for the first two years, and then we get to choose some of our classes on our own," Draco said. He looked over at Harrison from his spot one seat up and across the table. "And we've been paired with the Gryffindors for every class," he said, glaring at his schedule.

"Wonderful," Harrison said, leaning back a bit. "We start with History of Magic. Isn't that the one with the dead professor?" he asked, thinking back to what he'd read in _Hogwarts, A History_. "Tibbs, or something?"

"Binns," Draco corrected. "But I'm sure your father made sure that you know more about the British History of Magic than any of us," he said.

At that statement, Pansy, who was sitting next to Draco and across from Blaise, perked up. "Why would he make sure of that?" she asked.

"My father and I don't live in Britain, but he wanted me to go to Hogwarts because my mother went here and she wanted me to have the same experience that she did when she was here," Harrison said. "My father just wanted to ensure that I was completely prepared for school here."

"Where are you from, then?"

"He's from France," Draco and Blaise said at the same time.

Harrison smirked slightly.

Blaise looked over at him, watching as Harrison finished memorizing his schedule. "Are you done eating?" he asked, and Harrison nodded. "We have enough time to go back and get our books before we go to the classroom, if you want," he said.

"Alright," Harrison said, standing up. He looked over at Draco and sent the blond boy a small smile. "We'll see you in the classroom," he said.

Draco scowled slightly but quickly hid it as he nodded and started a conversation with Theo.

Harrison glanced up at the Head table again and frowned when he noticed that the supposed Defense professor was still watching him closely. He glanced over at Blaise, who was scowling.

"I don't like him," Blaise said, positioning himself so that he was standing between Harrison and the professor. The man's eyes narrowed at his movement, and Blaise took hold of Harrison's hand. "I don't want you to be alone with that man," he said in a quieter voice.

"Don't worry," he said as he and Blaise walked out of the Great Hall. "I don't plan being around him any longer than necessary."

"Good."

...

The History of Magic class was already shaping up to be boring, and it was ten minutes before the class had yet to start. There were only two Gryffindors already in the classroom, and they were sitting in the front desks, on the other side of the room from Harrison and Blaise, who'd made themselves comfortable in the back corner of the classroom, near the window. One girl, the bushy-haired Mudblood, was sitting next to a dark haired boy, nattering on incessantly about how excited she was to actually be here in Hogwarts, because she'd always known that she was more special than the people she went to primary school with.

"That boy looks a lot like you," Blaise said quietly, eying the boy suspiciously.

Harrison glanced over at the boy and frowned. He'd seen him before, in Ollivander's shop, and Ollivander had kicked the boy and James Potter out of the shop so that he could focus on Harrison. He knew within a few seconds of watching the boy that he was looking at James Potter, Jr. "I'm sure it's just a coincidence," he said quietly, opening his book and pulling a parchment notebook out of his bag.

"But-"

"Blaise, love," Harrison said, adopting the tone that Bella would use when trying to get him to listen to her even after Antonin had forbidden something. He smirked over at the Italian. "Drop it."

Blaise scowled, glaring at Harrison. "You sound like a madman with that tone," he said. "Don't ever use it around me again."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Harrison purred. He leaned closer to Blaise, his smirk becoming more dangerous. "After all, you know how I just live to obey your every whim."

Blaise's eyes widened slightly and he smiled slyly at Harrison, leaning forward so that their noses touched lightly. "Don't make promises like that, Harrison," he said. "I might just take you up on that offer."

Harrison opened his mouth to say something else when the two Gryffindors cleared their throats loudly. He looked over at the two of them, scowling when he saw Potter Jr.'s eyes widen. "Can we help you with something?" he asked coldly.

"We're trying to get ready for class," the girl said snottily. "And we can't focus with you two acting like-"

"Acting like what?" Blaise asked, wrapping his arms around Harrison's shoulders in a blatant show of possession. "Do you have any idea of the politics that go on in our world, or are you just interrupting because you're jealous?" he asked, sounding much older than his eleven years.

Harrison experimentally poked Blaise in the side, only for the touch to be ignored. He sighed and shifted a bit, making himself more comfortable in the embrace.

The girl glared at Blaise, silent for a long moment before she started going off in a spiel about how it was wrong for two boys to be so intimate with each other. The boy ignored her completely in favor of staring, almost in bewilderment, at Harrison. She only paused when Draco and his posse walked in. It was almost comical, really, how quickly she stopped talking when she found herself at the receiving end of a particularly vicious Malfoy glare.

"Draco," Harrison said with a small smirk, leaning out of Blaise's embrace and ignoring the irritated look Blaise sent him in response.

Draco nodded and took a seat in the chair next to Harrison. "I don't know if you've met them yet," he said, motioning at his entourage as they all sat in the desks around Draco, Harrison and Blaise.

Both Harrison and Blaise nodded, catching Draco's less than subtle hint.

Harrison was immediately pulled into a conversation with Pansy about her expectations for Charms, which they had next. That conversation continued until the beginning of class, and Harrison found himself impressed with Pansy's knowledge of Charms.

...

The rest of the first day continued much in the same way, though the Professors were interesting to Harrison.

Binns was dead. And really, that was all that could be said about him. He'd floated through the front of the classroom just seconds after it was scheduled to start, and he'd droned on for the entire period about one of the many Goblin Wars. Harrison was barely able to stay awake for the entire class, and, about halfway through, had decided to pull out his Transfiguration book and finish the chapter he'd been re-reading earlier.

Flitwick and MacGonagal were both strict but friendly enough. At the very least, they'd all been impressed when Harrison had been able to do the assignments on the first time. Charms had been easy enough - living with Bellatrix was the best preparation for a class like that, though Bellatrix had only taught him Charms that were on the wrong side of legal, and Harrison had no intention of getting himself into trouble, especially not this early in the year.

Sprout, Hooch, and the Astrology teacher hadn't seemed overly impressed with him, or the rest of the Slytherins, choosing instead to focus their attention on the Gryffindors for the class.

Snape was still clearly irritated with the exchange during breakfast, but since Harrison and Blaise were Slytherins, he wouldn't take any points from his house. Instead, he'd settled for glaring at the two of them every time he looked their way, and when Blaise had handed in a near-perfect vial of Boil Cure, the professor had sneered at him and growled for him to leave the classroom before he decided to give them both detention for a week.

The only professor that he wasn't sure of was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. A twitchy, mouse-looking man named Pettigrew. While he'd been introducing the subject and telling the students what they'd be studying, his gaze had kept shifting almost nervously between Harrison and Potter, Jr. Harrison had tried to ignore the feeling of the man's gaze on him, but he kept shifting away from it. By the end of class, he'd been pressed almost flush against Blaise's side - not that Blaise seemed to mind. In fact, he'd seemed almost pleased about how Harrison reacted, though he didn't say anything about it.

As for the students, most of them left Harrison and Blaise alone, but Blaise had gotten oddly overprotective whenever he noticed Potter, Jr. staring at Harrison - which was at the beginning and end of each of their classes. It looked a number of times like the Potter boy was going to try and approach Harrison to talk to him, but every time he took a step in his direction, both Blaise and Draco subtly positioned themselves so that they were both shielding Harrison from the Gryffindor.

Only when they'd all returned to the Slytherin Common Room after dinner did Harrison confront them about their behavior.

Draco just scoffed when Harrison asked him. "He's a Potter," he said snippily, closing his Charms book louder than necessary. "They're friends with the Weasleys and I don't want your reputation to be tainted by associating with their kind. I won't be seen with you if you start associating yourself with the traitors among us." After that, he'd said that he needed to work on homework and had gone to his room for the evening.

Blaise, however, was much more hesitant to tell him anything.

After the third time Blaise refused to give him an answer, Harrison headed into his room to start on his own homework. The words in the Dark Lord's letter had been in the back of his mind all day, and he had no intention of disappointing the man.

Just half an hour before midnight, Blaise walked into the room, closing and locking the door before hesitantly approaching Harrison. "Are you angry?" he asked.

Harrison glanced up from his notes for his Potions essay and took in the other boy's appearance. He seemed to be uncharacteristically concerned with the answer to that question, but at the same time, his eyes had started to glow more brightly and his canines had started sharpening to points. "No, I'm not mad," he said quietly. "Why? And I want a real answer this time," he said, setting the parchment notebook down and leaning back against the

Blaise was silent for a long moment before motioning at Harrison's bed. "Can I sit?" he asked.

"Sure," Harrison said, eyeing Blaise's canines warily. "Just don't sit too close," he said. "You look-"

"Almost unhinged, I know," Blaise said quietly, sitting at the edge of the bed, out of arm's reach of Harrison. He wrapped his arms around his chest, looking very much like he was hugging himself. "Do you know why my mother is so attracted to your father?" he asked after a brief hesitation.

"Because he's from a family with generations of Dark Arts practice and that's changed the taste of his blood, I guess."

Blaise nodded. "That's part of it," he said. "The more important part has to do with the history attached to his blood, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else this part."

Harrison nodded. "You have my word," he said.

There was a short, heavy silence before either of them spoke up again.

"Back when humanity was still in its infancy, my kind started to get territorial, and my ancestors started a competition of sorts."

"A competition?" Harrison asked, setting aside his irritation and leaning forward a bit.

Blaise nodded. "They wanted to see who was able to breed the best food supply, so they started picking certain humans and creating the perfect bloodlines," he said. "This continued into what's known as the Middle Ages, when there were almost one hundred bloodlines that were perfect. To our standards, at least. And in order to keep the supply coming from willing donors, the harems were created. All the humans were kept rich, well-fed, healthy, and my kind made sure that everyone in the harem was kept safe from the religious groups who all sought to kill them. It didn't last long, but the few books I've read about the harems make it sound like an amazing time."

"So what happened?"

Blaise shrugged. "There are conflicting stories about that. The most popular story, and my mum's favorite, is that the vampires turned on each other for some reason," he said. "And the quickest way for them to do that without starting an outright war was to go after the food supply of their rivals. They were surprisingly efficient about it too, and most of the bloodlines were eliminated in a century or two."

"So how did my father's family survive?" Harrison asked.

"That's what has my mother so intrigued," Blaise said. "As far as my mother knows, there's only supposed to have been two lines left. One in Australia and one in South America somewhere. When my mum first met your father, she knew that he was from one of the lines that was supposed to have been dead nearly six hundred years."

"But how did she know?" Harrison asked with a slight frown.

Blaise smirked and edged closer to Harrison. When he noticed the still scared look on the smaller boy's face, he offered him a small smile. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said gently. "Just, just trust me a little bit here." After Harrison nodded a bit, he moved so that he was sitting just in front of him. He tugged down the hem of Harrison's pants so that the other boy's hipbone was available. "There are a number of things that prove you've got the old blood in you, but the thing that proves it beyond doubt is this birthmark," he said, running his fingers lightly over the dark brown mark on Harrison's hip. "This is why my mum has been after your father since they met."

Harrison looked down at the mark with another frown. It looked like an abstract letter "F" and it was about the size of his thumbnail. "Papa has the same mark?"

"Everyone in your family's line has had this mark on their hip," Blaise said. He looked for a moment like he was about to lean forward and kiss the mark. "The smell of your blood alone is enough for every vampire to come running in the hopes of getting their claws in you, but if they find out that you've got the mark, that would only get worse."

"Why?"

Blaise looked up suddenly, his eyes glowing a vibrant gold and his canines had sharpened to noticeable points. He smirked wickedly. "You've got no idea how enticing your blood is to me. Even just sitting here, it's practically singing to me," he said, sounding more predator than eleven year old. "My ancestors cultivated your kind to create the perfect specimens," he said, once again running his fingers over the mark. "Your blood is rich with every quality that is necessary for a vampire to thrive," he added.

Harrison's eyes widened and, without thinking, he shoved Blaise away from him and pulled his pants back up, once again hiding the mark.

That action seemed to push the predator away, at least momentarily.

"What, _exactly_, is so important about my blood?" Harrison snarled, unconsciously reaching for his wand.

Blaise frowned. It took him some time to come back to reality, and when he did, he paled at the glare Harrison was leveling at him. "It's hard to put in a way that you'd understand and in a way that's not going to offend you."

Harrison scowled. "Risk offending me, or I'll find someone else to tell me about this," he snapped.

"My ancestors chose the best human stock and bred that. Your line was bred because you've always had strong magic, and your family is made of warriors," Blaise said. "The vampire that cultivated your line made sure he had strong stock, so he made sure that you have a good metabolism, strong immune systems, and healthy minds. At its peak, your family's line was the strongest of the harems," he said. "The vampire who bred you was one of the first and most powerful. He made sure that your line reflected his reputation. I just don't know how, exactly. No one does. Kostova kept his secrets to himself."

"Who was he?" Harrison asked curiously, his anger melting away as he absorbed what Blaise was saying.

"He went by a number of names, but my mum only used one when she was telling me about him. Alexander Kostova," he said. "He was killed about three centuries before mum was born."

"How'd he die?" Harrison asked, his anger completely gone. Nor was he offended, which didn't really surprise him. What he was learning now was really far too fascinating for him to worry about the politics - even if it did somehow relate back to him. "I mean, if he was one of the oldest and most powerful, shouldn't he still be alive?"

Blaise shrugged. "Mum says that no one knows how he died, just that someone got the attention of the vampires by putting Kostova's head on a stake in front of the Vatican and then disappearing," he said. "She thinks that Kostova was keeping your line safe, and that he sent what existed of the Dolohov family into hiding when he heard that someone was seriously coming to kill him."

Harrison hummed. "And your mum is, what? Being kind in making sure that no other vampire finds my father?"

At that, Blaise laughed aloud. "Not quite. Now that your father's not married, my mum plans to put a claim on him to make sure that everyone else knows that his blood belongs to her," he said. "She's hoping that they'll have a relationship like our ancestors did."

"Your mum wants to turn my father into a whore?" Harrison asked, slightly amused at the thought.

"Not quite," Blaise said, though he was still smiling. "The humans that made up the harems were treated like royalty as long as they were willing donors. If your father agrees to mum's terms, he'd stay a free man, and my mum's favor would make him so rich, the Malfoys would end up looking like the Weasleys," he said. "Say what you want about fate, but your bloodline was cultivated to perfection, and my mum's wanted your father since she first met him."

"You're saying our parents were meant to be together?" Harrison asked disbelievingly.

Blaise shrugged. "That's how my mother sees it, at least."

A comfortable silence settled between them, lasting a few minutes before Harrison shifted, frowning slightly.

"So if that's what your mum wants with Papa, what is it that you want with me?" he asked, tugging on the sleeves of his robe a bit nervously, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

Blaise offered him a small smile. "I really do want to be friends," he said, and he sounded genuine. "When I get older, I'll probably try to start courting you. Not for your hand in marriage or anything that extravagant," he said with a small smile. "But for a promise that you won't share your blood with anyone but me. It's what my mum has been trying to get out of your father since they met," he added.

Not sure what to say, Harrison just stayed quiet.

"Harrison?" Blaise asked when, after a few minutes, Harrison still hadn't said anything. "If you're worried about being taken advantage of, I can promise you now that we know how to show our appreciation to our willing donors. And since you've got the most powerful of the remaining old blood in your veins, I promise that I'd make sure you want for nothing."

Another silence settled between them, and for a moment, Blaise thought that Harrison had fallen asleep.

"Blaise," Harrison said gently, turning a slightly confused look onto Blaise. "I'm not mad, and I'm not going to tell anyone about this conversation, but there's a bunch of new information you just told me and it's going to take a little while before I work through it and make sense of it all," he said, deliberately keeping his voice calm. "I don't want to offend you, but would you just give me some space until breakfast tomorrow morning?"

Blaise hesitated for a moment, but at the look on Harrison's face, he nodded. "I promised my mum that I'd write her a letter before the first week of school ended," he said quietly. He frowned slightly, clearly not sure that he wanted to leave Harrison alone.

"Blaise, I promise, tomorrow morning, everything's going to be fine." Harrison sent him what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

It seemed to have worked, because Blaise nodded and walked over to his bed.

Harrison collected the books on his bed and set them on top of his nightstand, slipping his wand under his pillow - after one too many of Bellatrix's pranks, he'd learned the hard way that it was best to have his wand close to him. He looked over at Blaise, who was watching him out of the corner of his eyes. "I'll see you in the morning," he said.

Blaise nodded again. "Sleep well," he said quietly as he watched Harrison pull the curtains around his bed shut.

After the curtains were closed and secured with a sticking charm and a wantless privacy ward, Harrison flopped back on his bed, doing his best to process everything that Blaise had told him. Hopefully he'd be able to understand it all in time to get some sleep


	9. Chapter 9

Mkay, pretend there's a disclaimer here. Enjoy! (and feedback is always loved!)

Here's the next installment of Providence. Any questions, just message me and I'll get back with you as soon as I can. (Just as a note, there's going to be a time skip coming up in a few chapters.)

**Chapter 9**

Harrison didn't look up when he felt two people sit down at the table next to him.

He hadn't been able to get any sleep, with all the new knowledge weighing down on him. Instead, around four in the morning, he'd gotten sick of sitting there with his mind going a million miles an hour. He'd picked up one of the new parchment notebooks lying at the end of the bed and had written down everything that Blaise had told him. After that, he'd gone on to write down as much of his family tree as he remembered, which was almost fifteen generations, and any questions that he couldn't answer on his own.

He'd only taken a break long enough to shower and cast a few charms that ensured that he'd be the only one who could read what he'd written in the notebook. A moment of paranoia came over him when he felt someone watching him in the Great Hall had inspired him to make sure that he was the only one who was able to open the notebook.

"How long has he been like this?" Draco asked as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

Pansy, who'd come to breakfast just a few minutes after Harrison, shrugged. "I found him like this," she said before turning to Blaise with a slight smirk. "He's mentioned you a few times, so whatever happened, I think you broke him. He hasn't stopped writing since I found him, and he's only eaten the biscuits and bacon that I put on his plate. He didn't touch the banana, though."

Blaise scowled at her. "I did no such thing. He's probably just working on some homework."

"None of the teacher who assigned essays are going to accept them as part of a notebook," Draco said, pinning an irritated look on Blaise as he piled breakfast on the plate in front of him. "And I'm holding you personally responsible until he's back to normal."

"You all do know that I can hear you, right?" Harrison asked, finally closing the notebook and looking up at them. When he noticed the look on Blaise's face, he offered him a small smile. "Everything's fine," he said, answering the question before Blaise had a chance to ask it.

Draco scowled. "What had you so occupied?" he asked. "It looked like you'd filled up almost half of the notebook, and it's one of your new ones."

Harrison just smirked. "Are you ready for the assignment in Transfiguration this morning?" he asked, not even trying to be subtle in changing the subject.

"I'm actually more concerned with Care of Magical Creatures," Draco said, not questioning the subject change. "The oaf teaching it is going to get someone killed, if he hasn't already."

"What beast do you think he's going to put out for display today?"

Harrison shrugged. "I'm not sure," he said. "One of the older Slytherins told me that a litter of Crups was born a few weeks ago, and they're tame enough for the first years to play with."

"Who told you that?" Pansy asked.

"Daniel something. He's the seventh year with the scar on his neck."

At that, Draco nodded. "He interned for my father last summer," he said. "Daniel Martin, I think. And the Crups might be fun, especially with the -"

"Careful," Pansy hissed. "Dumbledore is watching."

Draco scowled slightly but fell silent, choosing to pile his plate high with breakfast.

...

As he and Blaise walked into the Transfiguration classroom and made themselves comfortable at the desk in the corner of the room, Harrison couldn't help but feel like he was being watched by someone. He looked over at Blaise, who didn't seem affected. No, the Italian boy's eyes were watching Harrison's every move.

"Is something wrong?" Blaise asked when he saw Harrison looking around the classroom.

"Someone else is watching me," Harrison murmured, his green eyes locking with the brown eyes of Potter, Jr.

As soon as the Gryffindor realized that he'd been caught staring, he flushed a bright red. Instead of looking away, though, as Harrison had expected, Potter stood up and walked over to stand in front of the desk that Harrison and Blaise shared. "Can we talk?" he asked, deliberately avoiding looking in Blaise's direction.

Harrison just watched the other boy, not saying anything. Until he knew what the other boy wanted from him, he'd just let the Potter dig himself into his own hole.

"Look, you look more like a Potter than some French kid."

"I beg your pardon?" Harrison asked, his voice cold.

The other boy paled at the tone, and he took a step back. "I didn't mean anything by that."

"Of course not," Blaise said with a smirk. "But you still said it, and I haven't met anyone else who was able to get Harrison that angry with just a few words," he said. "Go on. Say something else. Insult his father, maybe. I've always wanted to see what would happen when Harrison gets angry enough to actually lash out at someone."

"He can't do anything to me. We're in school!"

"That's clearly not stopped you from making an ass out of yourself," Pansy said as she dropped into the seat behind Harrison and started playing with his hair. Draco wasn't too far behind her, and he took a seat on Harrison's other side.

"Pansy, what are you doing?" Harrison asked, turning around a bit.

She slapped the top of his head. "You left your hair down this morning and I have no intention of letting you get it all tangled in quills and whatnot," she said. "Turn around and hold still. If I mess up, you're going to be in more pain than me."

"Of course," Harrison said, turning back around and ignoring Blaise's quiet laughter. He looked over at Potter, Jr., who was still standing in front of the desk. "You're still here?" he asked.

"We haven't talked yet."

"Unless it's escaped your memory, you insulted me and I chose to ignore you after that," Harrison said. "Unless you'd like to say something else to embarrass yourself?"

His jaw dropped and he said nothing else. He tried, though, but nothing more than stutters came out.

"Mister Potter, class is about to start. Why are you not sitting at your desk?" Professor McGonagall asked as she walked into the classroom. When he didn't say anything and didn't move back to his desk, she pursed her lips together in a thin line. "Five points from Gryffindor, Mister Potter. Get back to your desk before I decide to make it a detention." This time he did as told. She looked around the room, frowning slightly at the faux-innocent look that Harrison sent her way.

Once she was sure that she had everyone's attention, she motioned to the small teacup in front of each student. "For this class, I want you all to try to change your teacups into canaries. I don't expect you to be able to get it all done today, but get as far as you can. I introduced the spell and wand motion last class, so there shouldn't be any problems," she said. When there wasn't an immediate flurry of action, she pursed her lips together. "Get to work," she said, her voice taking on a shrill quality. That had the effect that she was looking for, as the students set about working right away.

Pansy stopped playing with Harrison's hair, and she leaned forward. "You're going to let me finish this later, right?" she asked.

Harrison leaned back a bit. "Do I have any choice in the matter?" he asked.

"You're smarter than Draco gives you credit for," she said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head.

Having heard his name spoken, Draco looked over at her with a scowl. "You're just still sore because I know better than to let you anywhere near my hair," he said. "Harrison will learn that lesson once you've decided to braid flowers or some other ridiculously girly thing into his hair." He looked over at Harrison. "Consider yourself warned."

"Noted," Harrison said as he took out his wand and focused on completing the assignment.

About twenty minutes before the class ended, Harrison found success. He grinned at the yellow canary in front of him, chuckling quietly when the bird hopped toward him, looking like it was expecting to be fed a treat of some kind.

A few seconds later, it turned away from Harrison and hopped over toward Draco, chirping happily.

When he heard another bird start chirping, Harrison looked over at Draco.

The blond boy smirked at him. "It's only to be expected," he said quietly, falling silent as Professor McGonagall walked up to the two of them.

"Well done, boys," she said, offering them what Harrison assumed was a smile. She set a few bread crumbs at the desk in front of her, and the birds immediately hopped over and started eating the crumbs. "Ten points to Slytherin." With that said, she started moving around the classroom to check on the progress of the other students.

"Has anyone else been able do it?" Harrison asked quietly, looking around the classroom.

"Not yet," Draco said. "Potter's gotten close a few times, though," he said. Both he and Harrison looked over at Potter just in time to watch his teacup change into a dull pink canary. "Sheer dumb luck," he muttered darkly. "That oaf couldn't-"

Harrison smirked a bit before pulling out the notebook that had the notes for his Potions essay. "I know it's not due until the end of the week, the Potions essay. Did you finish yours already?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "Most of it, yes. Why?"

"Because he's trying to distract you so that you don't insult Potter when his Head of House might overhear and take offense," Pansy hissed as she once again tried, and failed, to complete the transfiguration. So far, all she'd been able to do was turn the handle into a yellow wing, which was twitching a bit.

"Fine," Draco said with a scowl. "Let me see what you've got so far," he said, snatching the notebook out of Harrison's hand.

Harrison just laughed quietly and watched as Draco started making notes on Harrison's outline.

By the time class was over, Draco had finished going over Harrison's outline and had resorted to drawing Potter with his hair on fire. He'd even managed to charm the sketch so that the fire was slowly engulfing the rest of the drawn Potter's body.

Harrison had even pitched in to add a bolt of lightning hitting the boy in the head - and the way the sketch reacted to getting repeatedly struck by lightning had Draco and Harrison barely able to suppress their giggling. As it was, they'd been on the receiving end of a suspicious stare from McGonagall as they left the classroom with barely hidden smirks.

"You almost got caught," Pansy hissed as she hurried to catch up to Draco. She pinned a cold glare on Harrison as he shoved his notebook back in his bag. "Next time I want in on the drawing."

"Almost, but we didn't," Draco said, no longer trying to hide his smirk. "And you're only allowed to join in if you don't ever treat Harrison like one of your sisters again."

Harrison laughed quietly but didn't say anything, more interested in watching the situation play out.

"I've never treated him like one of my sisters. They're all twats and he's actually quite charming," she said before leaning up and pressing a kiss to Harrison's cheek. When both Harrison and Blaise turned a glare onto her, she laughed, ducking to stand on Draco's other side and deliberately staying out of arm's reach of the two boys.

"Keep your hands off of him," Blaise said, only barely able to stop himself from growling at Pansy.

Harrison poked Blaise in the side, a silent warning to watch his reactions.

He hesitated a bit before offering Pansy a small smile. "I've already called dibs on him," he said, flushing slightly at her laughter. "Next time you should draw him getting eaten alive," Blaise suggested as he plucked the notebook out of Harrison's bag and looked over the sketch. "Maybe by a lion. The irony would be delicious," he said with a cruel smirk.

"Nice drawing," Potter said as he walked up to them and peeked at the drawing over Harrison's shoulder. He paled slightly when the Slytherins stopped walking and he found himself the victim of four well-practiced glares, but didn't back off. Harrison found himself slightly impressed. The boy's Gryffindor courage was almost something he could respect. Almost. "I'm JJ," he said, thrusting his hand out in front of Harrison.

"That's fascinating," Harrison drawled as he put his notebook back into his bag again. He looked up at Blaise, asking him a silent question.

The Italian boy seemed to understand what Harrison wanted, and he deliberately stepped between the two boys. He draped an arm around Harrison's shoulders and pulled him away from Potter.

He didn't seem to be able to take the hint, though. "So where in France are you from?" he asked with a grin, walking over to Harrison's other side.

"The countryside," Harrison said. "Leave me alone now, would you?"

His smile faded a bit. "Did I do something to offend you?" he asked.

"Other than the fantastic way that you tried to introduce yourself before class?" Pansy asked. "No, I'm sure he's just on his way to falling in love with you. Go back to the other lions and stop bothering us."

"I wasn't talking to you," Potter snapped, glaring at Pansy.

"And no one invited you to butt into our conversation in the first place, did they?" Harrison asked coldly, sounding almost eerily like his father. Draco and Blaise looked over at him, both of them a bit shocked but neither of them said anything. "Now just go away. I think that Weasley boy is looking for you."

"I'm not going anywhere until we talk."

Draco looked over his shoulder and motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to walk over to them. "Get rid of him," he said almost flippantly as he pointed over at Potter.

Potter paled when he saw the two much larger Slytherins walking toward him, and he practically ran back over to the Weasley boy.

"That was fun," Blaise said as they all came to a stop just outside the gamekeeper's cabin. "And look, we made it to Care of Magical Creatures just in time," he said as Hagrid walked out of the cabin with a large crate of puppies.

"Alrigh' everyone, gather roun'," Hagrid said. "I trus' ye all read abou' th' Crups in yer books. Well, t'day we get ta play wit' 'em." He grinned. "They've got ta be played with ta stay tame," he said before opening the crate.

Almost a dozen Crup puppies came running out of the crate, heading over to the students, most of whom were almost as eager to play as the puppies.

Harrison, on the other hand, stayed back a bit. He sat down near the trunk of an oak tree and just watched as the others paired off with each other and started playing with the puppies. After a few minutes of sitting there without being disturbed, he reached into his bag and pulled out the charmed notebook, once again reading through his notes. There was a man listed over ten generations ago named Sasha Kostova, and he was pretty sure that the man was the same Alexander Kostova that Blaise had mentioned. He wanted to write a letter to his father asking about this, but he wasn't sure how to do that without betraying Blaise's trust.

Someone walked up to him and he closed his notebook again, slipping it back into his bag. Harrison glanced at his watch, frowning slightly when he noticed the time. He hadn't think he'd been reading for almost the entire class. There was only about fifteen minutes left in the class.

"More drawings that no one else is allowed to see?" Potter asked as he stared at Harrison's bag in undisguised interest.

"Is it all Gryffindors that can't take a hint, or are you a special case?" he asked.

"You're interesting," Potter said.

"How unfortunate." Harrison said. "What do you want?"

"A conversation. Just like before." When Harrison didn't say anything, Potter seemed to take that as a sign to continue speaking. "I'm James, Jr., but everyone calls me JJ. You're Harrison Delacroix, right? Does anyone ever call you Harry?"

Harrison looked over at the boy, still not saying anything.

"I'm going to call you Harry, then. You need some sort of happiness in your life, and I'm going to try my best to give that to you."

"Who the hell ever said I had no happiness in my life?" Harrison asked, his eyes narrowing at the boy. "And no one calls me Harry because that was my grandfather's cat's name."

"Then why did your father name you after a cat?"

"My mother named me, and I really don't see how any of this is your business," he said. "What do you want from me?" he asked.

JJ was silent for a long moment, thinking the question over. "I want to be friends with you," he said finally.

Harrison smirked. "And what, exactly, makes you think I want the same thing?"

JJ heaved out a sigh. "You're probably not going to believe me right now, but I promise I can prove everything once you give me a chance," he said. Without waiting for a reaction from Harrison, he continued speaking. "You were born on July 31st. I was born five minutes before you, and when we were both maybe a year old, there was a prophecy and you were taken away so that we could be safe."

"We?" Harrison asked coldly.

He was ignored.

"You were supposed to go to our Muggle cousins and then our parents would pick you up when you were eleven years old, but you were stolen and disappeared. Until you showed up here, anyway," he said. "Mum's going to be so happy. She thought you were dead until now, you know."

"As interesting as that story was, you're completely mistaken," Harrison said. "My mother died when I was six years old and my father still hasn't gotten over it."

"How'd she die?"

"How is that any concern of yours?" Harrison asked. "The point I was trying to get across was that your story is a complete lie. If your parents did send a baby to live with Muggles and he hasn't been found, he's probably dead," he said. He glanced up and frowned a bit when he saw Ronald Weasley storming up to them.

"JJ, what are you doing?" Ron asked, grabbing JJ's arm and jerking him to his feet. "He's a snake!"

"I wanted to make friends with him."

Ron scowled, glaring at Harrison. "He's evil," he snapped. "He's the wrong kind! He's friends with scum, so he's scum too!"

"He's not the blood traitor among us," Draco hissed as he walked up to the group. "Harrison, we've got to get to Potions class."

Harrison nodded and stood up, glaring at JJ when his gaze returned to his bag. "What are we brewing today?" he asked as he and Draco started walking back into the castle.

"We're going to be dealing with the simple medical potions all week," he said. "Weren't you listening in class yesterday?"

"Not really," Harrison said with a shrug.

...

In the Potions classroom, Draco settled in the front desks, followed closely by Pansy. Blaise and Harrison took the desk behind him, but on the way to the classroom, Blaise had noticed the glares that Harrison was getting, one from the Weasley boy and one from the bushy-haired Gryffindor, and he'd practically pushed Harrison into the seat against the wall.

"Blaise?" Harrison asked. "What's wrong?"

The other boy was silent for a long moment. "Why weren't you playing with the Crups?" he asked.

"I don't like them," he said quietly. "My aunt had one that she deliberately didn't keep tame, and it bit me when I tried to play with it."

"These ones were tame, though," he said.

Harrison just shrugged. "Doesn't make me like them any more," he said. "My father's fine with that, so I've never questioned it. He's always liked cats more anyway." He fell silent when Professor Snape walked in.

"Today you will all be brewing a Numbing Potion. Since we've got two hours together, there is more than enough time for you to brew it properly. When you are done and I'm satisfied, you may leave. Until then, get to work," he said, not looking around the room. He settled at his desk and started reading the stack of papers piled up there.

The instructions for brewing the potion appeared on the board behind his desk and the students immediately went to get their supplies.

After he'd gotten their supplies, Blaise glanced across the room to where JJ and Ron were sitting. He saw Ron glaring at Harrison and frowned. "What happened?" he asked, looking back over at Harrison.

"Weasley walked up when Potter was talking to me," Harrison said, not looking up from the table as he continued mincing their bloodroot. "I'd guess that he thinks I'm at fault and that I'm trying to corrupt Potter somehow. The Weasleys have never been the pleasant sort to my father or our friends," he said quietly.

They were able to continue prepping in relative silence for a few minutes before someone started whispering hateful things in their direction. Harrison didn't look up, but Blaise turned to face the source of the insults.

"Weasley," he hissed.

"Ignore him," Harrison said lightly. "He's not going to do anything. Is it boiling yet?" he asked.

Blaise scowled but turned around and checked the potion. "Not yet," he said. "Hang on, I think I see bubbles." He leaned forward a bit to check the potion more closely.

Suddenly, and accompanied by an equally sudden wave of silence, something heavy and more than slightly slimy hit Harrison's hand just as he started mincing the other root for the potion. His eyes widened in shock as the blade of the knife sliced into his hand. "Shit," he muttered, doing his best to swallow any reaction to the pain.

The cut was a few inches long but it was deep, and Harrison could see glimpses of his bones. The knife dropped onto the table with a hollow clatter and the root rolled onto the floor. There was a foreign tingling that didn't come from the cut, and Harrison whined when he wiggled his fingers to make sure there wasn't any severe nerve damage.

"Blaise," Harrison said, his voice barely audible.

The other boy immediately turned around, his eyes brightening when he saw the blood pouring quite steadily from Harrison's hand.

"Be careful, but I need your help," he said in a tone that one might use when approaching a potentially violent animal.

Blaise nodded. "Pro-Professor Snape," he said, looking over at the desk. He frowned when he didn't see the man sitting at his desk.

When the other students in the room realized what had happened, they fell deathly silent again. The air filled with an almost suffocating tension, and Harrison couldn't block it out no matter how hard he tried.

The pain was starting to get almost unbearable, and the foreign tingling was getting worse. He bit his bottom lip to try and stifle the whine that was threatening to break from his mouth, though judging by the look on Blaise's face, he didn't do that well. He looked up from his hand when someone suddenly grabbed his wounded hand. "Professor?" he asked, confused.

The Potions Professor just kept inspecting Harrison's wound. "Zabini," he said sharply, and everyone in the room jumped at the man's tone. "Take Delacroix to the Hospital Wing. Have the mediwitch flush the wound to make sure that there's no risk of infection." He procured a thick strip of gauze from somewhere and pressed it on top of Harrison's wound, ignoring the hiss of pain from the boy. "Keep pressure on it until Madame Pomfrey can see to you."

Harrison nodded and did as told. He looked over at Blaise. "Let's go," he said.

As they passed him, Ron sneered at Harrison. "You deserve that and more," he snapped. "I hope you lose your hand."

"Mister Weasley," Snape said, appearing behind Ron almost instantly. "Sixty points from Gryffindor and detention for a week," he snapped. "I don't want a repeat of that behavior from anyone," he said, this time speaking to the class at large. "Potions are delicate and there is always the chance that a mistake will result in injuries like Mister Delacroix sustained," he said.

Harrison looked over at Blaise, who was staring unblinkingly at the gauze covering Harrison's cut. "We need to go," he said, using the same tone as earlier. Without waiting for a response, he picked up his bag and started walking out of the classroom.

Blaise didn't wait long before hurrying to follow Harrison. "How bad is it?" he asked in an almost breathy voice after the door was shut behind them.

"I've had worse practicing spells with Aunt Bella," Harrison said. "It stings worse than I remember, though," he said. "I think I might have accidentally cut a vein or two or something."

"Hurry up, then," Blaise said. Instead of going down the hallway that led to the staircases, he pulled Harrison into an empty classroom.

"Blaise, what are you doing?" Harrison asked.

"Could you do me one favor?" he asked, glancing between Harrison's wound and his face.

Harrison frowned slightly but didn't say anything.

"It's singing to me, and I'm trying not to pounce on your hand. I'm trying really hard not to get too close," Blaise said, the breathy quality returning to his voice.

"You're, um, thirsty?" Harrison asked, glancing down at his hand.

Blaise finally met his eyes, nodding a bit. "I don't want to force you," he said. "But I want -" He fell silent suddenly.

"What, exactly?" Harrison asked.

"Not a promise," Blaise muttered, his appearance taking on an almost unbalanced quality. He wrapped his arms around himself and hugged himself, reminding Harrison of their conversation earlier. "I'm not asking for a promise; we're too young. Not a promise. No," he said quietly. "I just want a taste. Just one."

"And I'm still going to be able to make it to the Hospital Wing, right?"

Blaise nodded.

Harrison hesitated a moment before nodding. He pulled the gauze off of his wound and held it out in front of him. He tried to ignore the way his hand was trembling. "Just one taste," he said.

For almost ten seconds, it didn't seem like Blaise had heard Harrison. Then, with movement that was too quick for Harrison to see as less than a blur, his hands had clamped onto Harrison's arm, stopping him from pulling it back. His canines had sharpened a bit, and as the tips of his fangs began to extend, he lowered his mouth to Harrison's hand. His tongue flickered out to clean up the blood surrounding the wound, and Harrison squirmed a bit. Blaise paused and looked up at Harrison.

"It feels weird," Harrison said in protest. "And hurry up. I don't want to risk an infection."

"There's nothing in your blood. It's perfect," Blaise purred, licking his lips. He ducked his head a bit and glanced back at the wound before meeting Harrison's eyes again, as if silently asking permission.

"Just one taste," Harrison said. "We have to get to the Hospital Wing."

Blaise smiled slightly and returned to the wound. This time, the tips of his fangs poked at Harrison's hand as his mouth closed over the wound. When Harrison squirmed this time, he didn't react. Instead, he started sucking lightly, drawing the blood from the wound.

There was an odd burning sensation on his flesh where the tips of Blaise's fangs made contact, but Harrison stayed as still as he could. When he started to lose feeling in the tips of his fingers, though, he tried to pull his hand away from Blaise.

The Italian boy didn't budge, but he felt his flesh rip open a bit further.

"Blaise," Harrison said coldly, swallowing a pained groan. "Enough." He gathered some of his magic and shoved it at Blaise, distracting him long enough for him to gather himself. "That was your taste," Harrison said quietly. "You're not allowed to have any more from me."

Blaise flushed red and backed up, wiping his mouth clean on the sleeve of his robes. "Put the gauze back on the wound and don't let me see it. I'll listen, but it's going to be kind of difficult," he said. "You, erm, your blood tastes better than I thought it would," he added quietly as Harrison did as he was instructed.

Once he was sure the wound was covered with the gauze and out of Blaise's sight, Harrison took a step forward, doing his best to ignore his sudden lightheadedness. It affected him more than he thought it would, though, as he almost fainted when he took his third step.

Not surprisingly, Blaise caught him. "Let's hurry. We've waited long enough as it is," he said.

"How long has it been since we left the classroom?" he asked.

"No more than ten minutes," he said quietly as he shifted Harrison so that he was still supporting the younger boy but he wasn't within easy reach of his wounded hand. "Can you walk on your own?" he asked.

Harrison nodded. "I'm pretty sure, yeah," he said, and Blaise took a step back. He took a few steps on his own, wobbling a bit. "I don't need you to carry me, but I'm not going to be able to walk all the way up to the Hospital Wing. Can I lean on you until we get there?" he asked.

Blaise smirked a bit, returning to his spot at Harrison's side and helping the boy out of the empty classroom.

It took them almost twenty minutes to get to the Hospital Wing, and as soon as they got there, Madame Pomfrey was all over Harrison.

"What on Earth happened to you?" she asked, ushering Harrison into the nearest empty bed. She seemed unable to look away from the bloody gauze covering Harrison's hand.

"Potions accident," Harrison said as he crawled into the bed and looked over at Blaise, who clearly wasn't moving from the side of his bed.

"Try sabotage," Blaise muttered. "I'd bet money that Weasley did that. And he did it on purpose," he said darkly.

The mediwitch huffed as she inspected the wound. "It looks jagged. Did something else happen, or is it just the accident?"

Blaise paled a bit and said nothing.

"I got lightheaded coming up here and I tried to grab the staircase, but I missed," Harrison said quietly. "Blaise had to practically carry me up the last two flights of stairs," he said. It wasn't much of a lie - he had tripped, but he hadn't knocked his hand against anything, and Blaise had to help him keep walking.

"What other symptoms do you have?"

"It tingles a little bit. It's not related to the cut, but I couldn't sleep last night. I've had a headache for a while, but that's just because I'm homesick," Harrison said with a small smile that the mediwitch returned. "My father is overprotective when I'm home, and I guess I just miss him more than I thought I would," he said. He hadn't intended to tell the truth, but it seemed to have worked well enough.

Madame Pomfrey nodded and Vanished the gauze. She pulled a small vial out of her pocket and handed it to Harrison. "This is going to work to get rid of any possible infections in the wound," she said. "I want to keep you here for a few hours to make sure that you're alright, especially since you mentioned not being able to sleep last night."

Harrison nodded and drank the entirety of the vial.

"Let me know if you experience any numbness or burning," she said. "I'll give you a few minutes to talk to your friend before I come back with a sleeping potion for you."

Harrison's eyes narrowed. "You can't tell my father about this," he said, taking a guess as to how the woman would be spending those few minutes.

"Why not?" both Blaise and Madame Pomfrey asked at the same time.

"It's standard procedure to alert parents when their students have been the victim of an assault," she said.

"Look, he's really overprotective of me," Harrison said. "He's been that way ever since Mum died, and it took a lot for him to actually let me leave home and come to another country for school," he said. "If he hears about this thing from someone else, I don't think there will be any way to stop him from pulling me from school and taking me back home," he said.

Blaise smirked a bit but didn't say anything.

"Does that mean that you're going to tell your father?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

Harrison nodded. "I promised to write him if anything important happened, and I was going to send him a letter tomorrow, anyway," he said. "Can I get some sleep before I write the letter, though?" he asked.

The older woman nodded. "I'll get the potion now," she said before disappearing into her office.

Once she was behind closed doors, Harrison looked over at Blaise. "Are you able to contain yourself?" he asked, glancing back down at his wound, which hadn't yet been closed up. The blood flow had stopped almost completely after he'd downed the vial of potion. It seemed worse, as he looked at it. Without blood flowing from his wound, it seemed unnatural, and that made it hurt worse.

He shrugged. "It's still singing to me, but you promised me one taste and I know better than to try and force you. Mum's always told me that permission makes it taste better, and I don't doubt that. But I'm going to go back to class, just to be on the safe side," Blaise said quietly. "If you're not back in class after lunch, I'll come up here and check on you in our free period," he said.

Harrison nodded his thanks as Madame Pomfrey came back out of her office, this time holding a vial with a bright blue liquid.

"I'll see you later, Harrison," Blaise said, leaving the Hospital Wing before Pomfrey could tell him to leave.

"Dreamless Sleep Potion?" Harrison asked, and the woman nodded.

"It's enough to put you to sleep for a few hours. When you wake up again, your hand will have been healed, but I want you to tell me if it feels at all unusual," she said.

Harrison nodded and, after a moment of hesitation, he drank the entire contents of the vial and settled back in bed. The potion worked quickly, and he felt himself falling asleep in less than a minute.

...

He woke up again as someone was shaking his shoulder roughly. He looked around blearily, at first not seeing anyone. After a moment, though, he noticed JJ standing at his bedside, shaking his shoulder and glaring at him.

"What did you do?" JJ asked angrily. "Ron's got detention for a week with that git Snape, and he might even get suspended!"

"I din' do anythin'," Harrison slurred as he slowly woke up.

"You cut yourself and framed him! I just wanted to be friends and you attacked Ron!"

Harrison sat up and did his best to shift away from JJ's hold, but the other boy refused to let go of his shoulder. "I didn't do anything to Weasley," he said. "What are you doing in here?"

"I want to know why you did this to him!"

"Are you deaf or just thick?" Harrison snapped. "I didn't do anything!"

JJ scowled. "I don't believe you!"

"That is quite enough, Mister Potter," Professor Snape said as he walked out of Madame Pomfrey's office. "Thirty points from Gryffindor for assaulting a student in the Hospital Wing. Now take your hands off of Mister Delacroix and leave before I decide to make it a detention."

JJ's scowl only deepened, but he did as told.

When the door shut behind him, Professor Snape walked closer to Harrison's bedside. "Are you well?" he asked, sounding less than pleased to be there.

"Yes, sir," Harrison said, unable to meet the man's gaze. He frowned a bit when he noticed that his hand had been bandaged. It felt healed underneath, and he was tempted to take the bandage off, but he'd learned after Bella's tutoring lessons not to remove any bandages unless a Healer allowed it.

A tense air settled between them.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harrison said quietly, finally risking a glance up to meet the man's gaze. "For what happened when you gave me my class schedule. It's just, well, after my mum died, my father just kind of shut down for a while, and he still doesn't like talking about her. He doesn't even say her name out loud, unless he's having a dream," he said. It was almost uncomfortable how much he wasn't lying. Odd, how this seemed to happen here in the Hospital Wing. "I guess I've just gotten used to no one talking about mum, and it feels weird now when someone brings her up in conversation," he added.

The older man seemed to understand completely, and he nodded a bit. "Mister Weasley admitted to having thrown a bloodroot that he hexed. He didn't admit to what hex he used, so you'll be staying here overnight in case there are any late-showing symptoms," he said.

"What about my classes?"

"The other professors have all been informed about your situation, and Mister Zabini has agreed to collect your assignments," he said. "He was also able to complete the potion on his own, and you both received full marks for it."

Harrison frowned. "I'd like the chance to make that up on my own, sir," he said. "If that's allowed."

Snape nodded. "Once Madame Pomfrey is sure you're healthy and has released you from the Hospital Wing, we'll discuss it. Has she notified your father?"

"I'm doing that myself," Harrison said. "Just so he doesn't overreact or anything. He'll get the letter as soon as I'm allowed out of here." He shrugged. "And as soon as I write it," he added.

Snape was silent for a moment before producing a familiar-looking vial of bright blue liquid from a pocket of his robes.

"Back to sleep again?" Harrison asked.

"Some people have a bad reaction to being forcefully woken up from the potion, and it can lead to mental illness if left untreated. The best way to prevent that is to take another dose as soon as possible," he said.

"And you just carry random vials around in your pockets?" Harrison asked as he took the vial and pulled the cap off of the top.

"Drink, Mister Delacroix. I don't have all day to indulge you," he said, though there seemed to be a hint of a smile on the man's face. "And I am the Potions Professor for a reason," he said as Harrison swallowed the contents of the vial and got resettled himself in bed.


	10. Chapter 10

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

Hey, so next chapter there's going to be a time jump.

If you've got any questions, just message me and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

**Chapter 10**

Harrison, the letter read in Russian.

I'm glad to hear that you've gotten settled in school, and that you've found some friends in Slytherin. I trust you haven't been slacking off in your studies.

Your Aunt and I both miss you a great deal, and we can't wait until your winter break. Bella has already decided that she's going to take you to see the Northern lights on the eve of the New Year. I will also warn you that she's been coming up with increasingly complex plots about how she'll abduct you if you try to resist her, so keep that in mind when you come home. (She seems to be favoring shrinking charms. I'll teach you a counter before she has a chance to get her hands on you.)

I've also been told to tell you that an angel is going to speak with you after the Malfoy's Yule Ball. (Lucius has already extended an invitation, by the way, and I accepted on behalf of both of us.)The angel will spend the night in the guest chambers of our Manor before leaving to attend other business. I will try not to leave you alone with the angel. You're still a child and his temper is something I know well not to underestimate.

As far as your disagreement with the Potter boy, I suspect there's more to the story than a simple argument that got out of hand. You know how to handle yourself, though, and if it becomes something that you can't deal with on your own, talk to me. I may not be as - how do I put this politely? Mentally controlled as Lucius, but I am a much better option than Bella - and you know that she will storm off to your school and draw blood if she feels it necessary. You can trust me, kid. I promise.

In answer to that last question of yours, Sasha Kostova is a many-times-great grandfather of ours, but not much is known about him any more. The diary that I sent with this letter belonged to my mother's grandmother, and I have a feeling you're doing much of the research that she's already done. Keep this diary safe. It's very old and very valuable to our family. Don't let anyone else read it. Not even the Zabini brat - and tell him to tell his mother to find a hobby that doesn't involve me. I'm getting sick of dealing with her possessiveness. With as much time as she and Bella spend around me, Lucius is starting to be good company (something that he finds irritatingly amusing, but he seems to know where I'm coming from. He's offered me some reprieve, but the business dealings that he shares with me are almost as boring as Bella and Serena's conversations about fashion.) I'm counting the days until you get here and save me from the madness, even if only for a short while.

I've deviated. My apologies.

The book is very valuable, but it's answered almost all of my questions. Keep it in your trunk until your winter break and bring it back with you then. (You are more than welcome to keep it longer, but I've never known you to take more than a day to read a new book.) If you've got any questions after reading the book, write me another letter and I'll do my best to dig up the answers.

If you do write me, do it in Russian, but make sure that you charm it for privacy. I don't want your Russian getting sloppy while you're away from home. And when you get back home, you're going to be speaking only Russian, so be prepared for that.

Stay out of trouble, and do well in school.

I love you, kid.

Winter's not coming soon enough. I miss you.

Love, Papa.

...

Harrison read the letter with a smile and tucked it back under his pillow. He'd received it about a week ago, and he'd read it almost a hundred times since then.

The diary (which he'd kept tucked away in a hidden pocket of his robes) had quickly become as important to him as his father's letter - even for the family connection alone. He'd read both the letter and his book during his free block, when he'd sequestered himself in his bed. It had taken him about two hours to get through the book, and in it, there was a wealth of information about both his family and vampirism in general. As soon as he'd had the chance, he'd transcribed the details about vampirism into his own notebook.

His twice-great grandmother had managed to learn, among other things, that their bloodline had a few specific traits bred into it. The one that stuck out the most at first was a heightened complacency around vampires. Apparently that trait got stronger when in close quarters with a familiar vampire, but it never got to be so severe that there was a loss of free will. When compared to human bloodlines that hadn't been tampered with, Harrison thought it somewhat unnerving, though he quickly got over it when he thought about the incident on the train. Draco had been terrified when Blaise was angry, and while Harrison was scared as well, he was nowhere near as bad as Draco. The more he thought about the complacency, the more he realized that it was not only beneficial for the vampire, but also for the humans as well. For survival, if nothing else.

There were a few notes she made close to the back of the book, and those were the most interesting to Harrison. Apparently, his twice-great grandmother, named Milena, had found her own vampire, who she never called by name, only by the alias Jasper. Every time he drank from her, he brought her a gift - a piece of jewelry with jasper gems. Her favorite was a jasper-beaded bracelet that had protection charms woven into it. She'd been buried while still wearing that bracelet.

After Jasper had learned that Milena had the old blood in her, he'd promised to protect her and keep her safe if she promised to only give him her blood. Those promises were fortified in an exchange of blood and a blood oath.

And that, the oath by blood exchange, remained the most fascinating thing for Harrison.

Once Milena ingested Jasper's blood, she noticed a number of new traits. She was always in perfect health after the exchange, her strength had improved a bit, and her reflexes improved as well. There were a few other traits that she noticed, and some theories about what else she might experience, but her theories and explanations became very vague after she described a night when she and Jasper spent the night together, having sex and exchanging blood with each other.

Harrison lost interest after that. Milena went into great detail about her nights with Jasper, and considering she was his grandmother, it quickly became almost nauseating.

Her information otherwise was incredibly valuable. She'd called their family bloodline the Kostova line, and Harrison found himself almost immediately referring to it as such. It was preferable to calling it the old blood, at least.

...

"Blaise?" Harrison asked quietly as he dropped into the seat next to the other boy.

Their free period had started about ten minutes ago, and there were only a few other people in the library, so the two of them had a decent amount of privacy. Still, Blaise had chosen to sit at the table in the back corner of the library, near the small section with books on House Elves, and goosebumps appeared on Harrison's forearms as he sat down, warning him that he'd stepped into a small but strong Privacy Charm.

"Give me just a few minutes. I'm almost done with the History of Magic essay," he said quietly, not looking up from his essay.

Harrison nodded and pulled out his charmed notebook, reading over Milena's information. There were a number of references to snakes that he didn't understand, and he was hoping that Blaise might be able to explain at least some of it.

When Blaise leaned back in his chair and tossed his quill onto the table, Harrison put his notebook away.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asked.

"First of all, my father really wants your mum to leave him alone."

"She's still coming on too strong, yes," Blaise said with a grin. "She wants to make him number eight, I think. If it's any comfort, she plans on making sure that he's the last one." He leaned a bit closer to Harrison. "She's made friends with the Russian Minister and she wants to groom your father to take his place. I think she wants the rest of her family to know how powerful and well-connected she is."

"Papa hates politics, and he's not going to let himself be used like that," Harrison said with a smirk. "And he's not buying that story from your mum any more than I am from you," he added.

"What did you want to talk about?" Blaise asked.

Harrison hesitated for a moment, glancing around to make sure that no one was watching them. Even though he could still feel the weight of the Privacy Charm on his shoulders, there was no way to be too careful with their conversation, especially when they were talking about it in public. "What do you know about a relative of yours who went by the name Jasper?" he asked, choosing to err on the side of caution. The snakes could wait for the moment.

Blaise immediately picked up on the topic. "I don't think I've ever heard of Jasper," he said after a moment of thought. "My mother has a sister in Morocco named Jasmine, but they don't really get along since Mum's second husband was Jasmine's fiancé before Mum got her claws into him," he said with a grin. "Why?"

"My fourth-great grandmother Milena had a relationship with a Jasper who's related to you. Promises and everything," he said, not saying anything for a moment. "I found something of hers and she said that the promises come with a blood exchange," he said in a much quieter voice.

Blaise seemed a bit shocked at the statement, and it took him a moment to compose himself before he answered Harrison's question. "That's how things are done. My, um, my relatives and I tend to be possessive. My mum, in all her marriages, did the same thing with her husbands. She promises to love them and never to disobey her vows as long and they promise to only share their blood with him," he said. "There's old magic of ours that makes the promises unbreakable with the exchange."

Harrison frowned, biting his bottom lip. "And if you and I were to make the promise?" he asked.

Blaise shook his head. "I haven't thought about it. I'm still too young to protect you from some of my older relatives, and they will come after you if your ancestors become known," he said.

"But I'm not too young for it," Harrison said with another frown.

"The one time I met my grandfather, he told me that it's always best to ensure loyalty from a young age," Blaise said. "He told me that it was always smart to find someone who tastes good and get the promise from them early so that we could be sure that they'd be ready for the rest of their lives." He glanced over at the entrance to the library and scowled when he saw JJ walking inside. "Mum didn't let me see him again after he told me that, and she's been ignoring him since that meeting," he said before falling abruptly silent.

Without any warning, JJ gracelessly dropped into the table across from Harrison. "What are you guys talking about?" he asked. He seemed oddly unaffected by the Privacy Charm, or he did an impressive job at hiding it.

With a muttered word, Blaise canceled the Privacy Charm, all the while glaring at JJ. "You weren't invited into this conversation, regardless of what we were talking about," he said.

"I wasn't talking to you, Blaise," JJ snapped.

The Italian boy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "We aren't on familiar terms, Potter," he said coldly. "I should just tell you not to use my first name, but it will probably end better for you if you just don't talk to me again."

"Wasn't planning on talking to you,_ Blaise_," JJ said, drawing out Blaise's name and grinning at the boy's glare. "I wanted to talk to Harrison anyway."

Blaise glanced over at Harrison, who shrugged minutely, before putting his essay into his bag. He stood up, sending another glare at JJ. "Don't stay too long, Harrison. It would be a shame if you allowed yourself to be exposed to the wrong type for too long," he said coldly before leaving the library.

Once Blaise was out of earshot, JJ leaned forward in his seat and sent Harrison an easy grin. "He's just wonderful, isn't he?" he asked.

"Are you really sure this is how you want to start a conversation with me?" Harrison asked. "I mean, you've already tried to start one conversation with me by insulting my father and then by accusing me of slicing into my arm and somehow framing Weasley for it." He paused. "Then again, I suppose there aren't that many people in my life left for you to insult. Just be warned that I will be sharing your choice of insults with Blaise, so you'll have to watch your back in case he feels like retaliating against you for whatever you say here," he said, leaning back to put more distance between himself and Potter.

"I-" he started, but stopped mid-sentence. "I didn't come here to start an argument."

"You're doing a really good job at it whether it's intentional or not," Harrison said. When he saw the crestfallen look on JJ's face, he relented a bit. "I'll give you two minutes. After that I'm going to get up and leave and I don't want you to talk to me anymore," he said.

JJ frowned. "But I still want to be friends with you," he said, sounding more like a petulant toddler than an almost-teenager. "We are still brothers, after all."

Harrison scowled but didn't say anything. He'd ignore the claim for now, but if JJ kept bringing it up, he'd have to deal with it.

The other boy seemed to take his silence as the go-ahead to keep talking. He reached into his bag and pulled out a book, handing it to Harrison. Or tried, more like. When it was clear that Harrison wasn't going to be taking the book from him, JJ set it on the table between them. "My father gave this to me before I came to Hogwarts," he said. "It teaches you how to become an Animagus," he said, clearly expecting a response from Harrison. Once again, he was disappointed with Harrison's apparent lack of interest. "Everyone in the Potter family has been one. They've all been the same animal, too, and as soon as I'm old enough to complete the transformation without hurting myself, I'll be the same species too. My father says we're known for it and that our family crest has been designed to feature our Animagus form. We've been lions since before our family line was one of the most well-respected families in Britain," he said. "My father told me that every Potter child takes the first potion, the one that tells you what your Animagus form is, on their tenth birthday," he added.

"And what does this have to do with me?" Harrison asked.

"I thought you might like to join in the family tradition," JJ said with another easy smile.

"We're not family," Harrison said, though he couldn't hide his growing interest in the book on the table. "You've confused the boy you're looking for with me. I've spent my entire life with my father in France," he said.

JJ shrugged. "You can keep thinking that, if it helps you sleep at night, but that's not the truth. Your father stole you away from us and clearly you've been brainwashed," he said. When he noticed the look on Harrison's face, he stood up. "The book is yours, if you want it. I have another copy back at Potter Manor," he said quickly before disappearing from the library.

Harrison stared at the book for a long moment before casting a quick _tempus_. He had almost an hour before his Potions class started, and he still had questions about his Defense essay. He wasn't entirely sure that he'd understood more than the basics of the assignment, which was to name at least four magical creatures, describe their appearance and at least ten defining characteristics of each creature. He'd deliberately avoided choosing vampires for the assignment, just as a precaution, but he was still confused about some things. He'd been told to put as much detail as possible into their descriptions, but there were still a number of limitations assigned as part of the essay.

He didn't think the professor had a class that period either, so he'd have the time to ask enough questions to completely understand the assignment.

His gaze once again returned to the book on the table. JJ had said that it was his to keep, and he could always ask his Head of House to check for any curses if he was really that concerned about the book being hexed in some way. Harrison glanced around. No one was watching him, and he couldn't hear any of the hushed, whispering conversation that took place when Madame Pince wasn't within earshot. He reached out for the book, hesitating only seconds before snatching it off the table and slipping it into his bag. As soon as he did so, he looked around again. Nothing had changed. The peaceful calm of the library was undisturbed, and for a moment before he left the library, Harrison found himself wondering if he shouldn't just stay there and write his essay without seeing the professor.

Pettigrew was in his office, grading a stack of papers that, from their thickness, looked like they were from the sixth or seventh years. His door was open, though, and Harrison took that as a silent invitation for students to come inside.

"Professor Pettigrew?" Harrison asked quietly, stepping into the room. "Do you have a moment to talk?"

The older man seemed almost frightened for a moment before nodding. A small, almost nervous smile flitted briefly over his face before it was replaced with his usual expression of constant nervousness. "Mister Delacroix," he said. "Of course we can talk. What can I help you with?"

"I had a question about the essay that's due next week," Harrison said, pulling out a parchment notebook from his bag.

"Go ahead," Pettigrew said. He set his quill down and leaned forward a bit. An almost predatory glint came into his eyes when Harrison walked over to the edge of his desk and started flipping through his notes, but the change went unnoticed by Harrison.

"When you told us to use the characteristics of the four creatures in the essay, you didn't mention which sort to use," Harrison said, looking up at Pettigrew once he found the right page. He'd chosen only three creatures so far - werewolves, naiads, and sphinxes - and had made an extensive list of details about their various characteristics.

"What sort of details do you think I meant?" Pettigrew asked.

"There are the kind in our textbook, but you told us that you don't want us to just regurgitate everything we've read in our textbook. My father's taught me a few things that aren't in the book, and I just wanted to know what was appropriate to include and what wasn't," Harrison said.

Pettigrew was silent for a long moment as he thought about how to phrase his answer. Before he said anything, he stood up and positioned himself so that he was almost touching Harrison's side.

Harrison glanced up, not sure what to think of the man's behavior. He wondered how the man would react if he tried to put more space between them, but he ended up not moving. When Pettigrew reached for a quill and started writing a few notes on the pages that Harrison had dedicated to the facts about the werewolves, though, he turned his focus on reading what the professor was writing.

Almost ten minutes later, the two of them had managed to get through all the werewolf pages and almost all of the the Sphinx pages.

As they continued speaking, Pettigrew seemed to find it necessary to touch Harrison. Nothing illicit, but Harrison still thought it was odd that the man insisted on resting a hand on his back or absently play with Harrison's hair while they continued talking.

They'd just started on the naiads when someone walked into the room and cleared his throat.

Pettigrew jumped away from Harrison at the sound, looking almost guiltily over at the newcomer.

Snape looked over at Harrison. "The young Mister Malfoy has been pestering me to find you, Delacroix," he said. "I suggest you find him before he has a coronary," he added when Harrison showed no immediate signs of doing as instructed.

Harrison nodded, grabbing his book and sending a quick smile in Pettigrew's direction. "Do you know where I can find him?" he asked.

"He's in the common room," Snape said. When Harrison walked past him, he took hold of the boy's arm and leaned down a bit. "Go straight to my office," he said quietly, making sure that only Harrison could hear him.

Harrison's eyes widened slightly, but he showed no other signs of acknowledging what the man said. He pulled his bag over his shoulder and nodded a bit. "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you, Professor," he said quietly before leaving the classroom. He stepped out of the classroom and started down the hall, though he stopped and pressed himself against the wall so as to listen in on the conversation between the two professors.

He wasn't disappointed, as it only took a few seconds for the conversation to start, and Harrison could hear everything clearly.

"You have no business interrupting me when I'm helping a student!" Pettigrew all but yelled.

"I know all about your perverse little proclivities, rat," Snape said icily. "You've already made that brunette boy in Ravenclaw so uncomfortable that he's sought out both Flitwick and myself to ask us to get rid of you."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

A heavy thud, and Pettigrew yelped, sounding oddly similar to a kicked dog. "Intimidating the Ravenclaws is one thing, Pettigrew," Snape said in a cold, quiet voice.

Harrison edged closer to the door so he could clearly hear everything that Snape was saying.

"I don't particularly care how uncomfortable you make the students in other houses feel," Severus said in the same glacial tone as before. "But when I walk into your classroom and see you attempting to molest one of the students in my houses, that is something that I will not ignore."

"What the hell-"

"Pettigrew, let me make myself perfectly clear. If I catch you so much as leering at Delacroix again, or any of my other snakes, I will take a great deal of pleasure in removing the parts of your anatomy that define you as male, as slowly and painfully as possible," Snape growled. "Do you understand, or is a demonstration necessary to make sure it sinks in?"

There was a whimpering sound, but something about that sound seemed to satisfy the Potions Professor.

Harrison didn't even try to hide himself as his Head of House walked out of the Defense classroom. He offered Professor Snape a weak smile when the man saw him. "Hello, Professor," he said quietly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Snape asked to himself, clearly not expecting an answer. He motioned for Harrison to walk with him down the hall. "I'm going to assume that you heard every part of that conversation?" he asked once they were far enough away from the classroom to hold a conversation without being overheard or interrupted.

"Most of it, yes," Harrison said. "Why was a pedophile hired to teach children?" he asked.

Snape for a moment looked like he was about to smirk. "There have only been rumors so far. If there had been any actual complaints, he wouldn't be allowed in the castle without supervision," he said. "I hesitate to ask, but did he do any-"

Harrison shook his head, blushing bright red and feeling embarrassed for some reason. "No sir," he said hurriedly. "He just got a bit close and touched my hair, but other than that he didn't do anything."

"Good," Snape said. "If that changes, or if he tries to get you alone for any reason, I want you to come to me right away, understand?" he asked.

Harrison nodded. "Yes, sir," he said. "Was Draco actually looking for me?" he asked after a moment.

"I believe so, yes," he said. "He's in the common room," he added. "And since you've answered my question already, there's no need for you to come to my office."

"Thank you," Harrison said, turning around a corner and taking a shortcut to get back to the Slytherin Common Room.

True to Professor Snape's word, Draco was waiting for him. As soon as Harrison walked into the Slytherin Common Room, the blond practically pounced on him. "Are you alright?" he asked, checking Harrison over for injuries.

"I'm fine, Draco," Harrison said with a smile and gently pushed Draco away from him. "Why?"

"Because Blaise said that he left you alone in the library with Potter," Draco said before glancing down at his feet. "We got into an argument and we're not talking right now."

"Why not?"

Draco looked up at Harrison, his cheeks tinged pink. "We got into an argument," he said.

"About what?" Harrison asked as he started walking toward the room he shared with Blaise.

"I don't think you should be left alone with Potter. He associates with Weasley, and the entire Weasley family is a bunch of gits that aren't above making threats against the people that they don't like," Draco said. "When my father was promoted, Arthur Weasley sent my mum envelopes of Bubotuber Pus every day for a week. I don't want to see something like that happening to you," he said. "Blaise didn't agree with my suggestion, and we started fighting about it."

Harrison scowled slightly, stopping in front of his door. "What was your suggestion?"

Draco hesitated for a moment. "I don't want you to go anywhere alone. We all have classes together, so that's not a problem. I just think it's a good idea for you to have someone with you in case Weasley comes after you. Or Potter," he said quietly. "Greg thinks of you as his little brother. He's already volunteered to do it," he added.

"You want to give me an entourage?" Harrison asked, smiling a bit at the suggestion.

Draco shrugged. "If that's what you want to call it," he said. "I just don't want to risk you getting hurt when it could have been prevented."

Harrison was silent for a moment. "I'll think about it," he said. "But I don't want anyone following me without my knowledge," he added when he noticed the calculating glint in Draco's eyes. "I want your word that you're not going to engineer something behind my back," he said.

At that, Draco scowled. "Fine," he said. "Not until you've agreed to it. Just be careful, would you?"

"I will," Harrison said. "Now, I've got enough time to shower before Potions class. I'll see you in class," he said before walking into his bedroom. He looked over at Blaise's bed and smiled slightly when he caught the look Blaise was sending him. "I'm fine," he said. "And Draco didn't mean anything with his suggestion."

Blaise just scoffed, glaring at Draco, who was still standing on the other side of the doorway. "The suggestion itself was offensive," he snapped. He picked up his wand and, with a sharp motion, slammed the door shut in Draco's face. "Did Potter do anything to you?" he asked.

"He gave me a book," Harrison said as he tossed his bag on his bed and pulled his school robe off. "Try not to be alone with our Defense Professor," he added. "Professor Snape said that he's fond of boys our age."

"Really?"

Harrison shrugged. "Apparently. I'm taking a shower before we have to go to Potions class," he said before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind himself.


	11. Chapter 11

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

Surprise! A longer chapter than usual! (Though they do seem to be getting longer as the story progresses. Huh.)

Anyway, enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated.

**Chapter 11**

The next few months came and went without serious incident, and soon it was just one day before the train left for their winter break.

Harrison and Pansy, who'd formed a surprisingly strong friendship, had made themselves comfortable on the floor of the dorm room that Draco and Theo shared, talking quietly among themselves. Draco and Blaise were lounging on the couch that Draco had bought early on in the year, the two of them in the middle of a two-day long game of Wizard's chess. Theo was on his bed, working on his History of Magic essay that was due after the break.

All in all, it was a comfortable atmosphere until Theo suddenly looked up from his books and pinned an odd look at Harrison. "Harrison?" he asked quietly. "What are you doing to celebrate the new year?"

"My aunt said that she's got plans to take me to see the Northern lights on the Eve," Harrison said, not looking up from his own essay, which he'd finished earlier that week. Pansy had slapped him upside the head until he'd learned that he wasn't allowed to move his head when she was playing with his hair. "If you're trying to be the first to invite me to one of the holiday balls, Draco's father beat you to it."

"When did he do that?" Draco asked, looking up from his chess game.

"Some time in September, I think," Harrison said.

"No," Theo said. "It's not that. My family even doesn't host any balls, but that's not the point. This doesn't have anything to do with my family. It's yours."

Harrison frowned and looked up from his essay, flinching only slightly when Pansy jabbed a finger into his ribs to scold him. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Theo shrugged. "I meant no offense, Harrison," he said. "But my mother wrote me a letter yesterday and she told me to ask you about the Delacroix masquerade. Specifically about her lack of an invitation."

Harrison stayed silent, knowing better than to say anything.

Fortunately, Blaise was the one to speak up for him. "There's a reason the Delacroix balls stopped when Harrison's mother died," he said, sending an apologetic glance in Harrison's direction. "It was inappropriate for your mother to have asked in the first place."

"It was not," Theo said coldly. "It was a completely legitimate question since the Delacroix family came out from hiding."

"We were never hiding, Theo," Harrison said, his tone just as cold as the other boy's. "My mother's death almost broke my father, and it took a lot just to convince him to let me attend my first year here at Hogwarts. To be honest, I'm probably going to spend most of my winter break trying to convince him to let me keep attending school," he said.

Theo hesitated for a moment before nodding slightly. "I'll tell my mother as much, but she's going to want an explanation," he said.

Harrison scowled. "Tell her my father is still in mourning and that, if he chooses to host some kind of formal event, he'll make the announcement through the proper channels," he said. "If she'd like to speak with him in person, he'll be at the Malfoy balls," he added.

Theo flushed red. "I apologize," he said.

An awkward silence settled in the room before Harrison nodded, and everyone went back to doing what they'd been doing before the conversation started. It didn't last long, as someone knocked on the door to the room, which wasn't pulled completely shut.

"Delacroix," Severus said as he opened the door. "I need to speak with you privately. In my office," he said.

Harrison hesitated. "Am I in trouble, sir?" he asked.

"Just come with me, Harrison," Severus said with a hard edge to his tone.

He nodded and looked over at Pansy, who stopped braiding his hair.

"I'll finish looking over your essay for you," she offered with a sly smile.

He returned the smile with one of his own. "Nice try," he said, standing up and handing his notebook to Blaise. "Make sure she stays away from it," he said.

Blaise took the essay and smirked up at Harrison. "Whatever you say," he said, taking the parchment notebook and making sure to tuck it out of reach.

"I don't have all day, Delacroix," Severus said.

Harrison nodded and followed his Head of House into his private office.

As soon as the door shut behind the two of them, Severus sat down behind his desk and sighed heavily. He looked around his desk, absently shuffling some of the papers around and not looking up at Harrison.

That action alone had Harrison immediately on edge. "Sir?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Severus was silent for almost a full minute before he looked back up at Harrison. He picked up his wand and made a few vaguely familiar gestures, and only after the telling weight of Privacy Charms settled around the room did he look back up at Harrison. "Your father contacted me about two hours ago," he said, obviously unsure as to how best phrase what he was trying to say.

Harrison walked forward a few steps and dropped into the chair in front of Severus' desk. "Is he alright?" he asked, his mind immediately going to the worst conclusions possible.

"He's not dead," he said.

"Good to know. What happened, exactly?" Harrison asked.

"First of all, it would have been incredibly helpful to know beforehand that your father is a wanted man in this country," Severus said. At the way that Harrison clenched his jaw shut, he bit back a smirk. "I give you my word on my magic that I have no intention of taking this conversation, or any part of it, out of this room. Now, I worked with your father in a number of raids before you were born and he seems to have forgotten that I know what his usual Glamour looks like," he said.

Harrison stayed silent, waiting to find out what had happened to his father.

Severus frowned a bit. "He Flooed into my office earlier and told me a few things. The first thing was that he's going out of town for the next month on an assignment, and he's not going to be able to meet you at the train station. He's also been the victim of the Cruciatus Curse, and I have no idea how much longer he's going to be able to travel without passing out," he said.

"He's sick?" he asked, the sudden edge of terror and concern sending a chill down his spine.

"I'm not going to be able to phrase this in a child-friendly manner," Severus said.

"I wasn't raised in an entirely child-friendly environment," Harrison said coldly, sounding older than his eleven years. "Just say it." He did his best to shove his feelings aside and focus on how to handle whatever this situation was turning into. No matter what happened, he knew he'd be sending a letter to Bellatrix before he went to bed that night.

Severus eyed Harrison oddly for a moment. "He's been brutalized, Harrison," he said. "And whatever happened to him, he couldn't heal himself from it and he refused any help I tried to offer him," he said. He leaned forward a bit, folding his hands together on the desk in front of him. "He told me that he's going to be completely unreachable for the next four weeks," he added.

Harrison stayed silent for a brief moment as a numb feeling sank into his bones. "Where am I going after I get off the train?" he asked.

"You're going to go home with Lucius Malfoy until your aunt takes you back home," Severus said. "And she's going to stay with you for the duration of your break," he added.

Harrison nodded, looking down at his shoes. He was feeling almost nauseous, but he was doing his best to keep himself from vomiting.

"You can talk to me if you need, you know," he said, leaning forward a bit. "I have been able to deal with some rather complicated family problems as the Head of the Slytherin."

"I know, Professor. And I mean no insult, but I'd rather keep this inside my family. It's how we've handled all our problems so far," Harrison said quietly. "Is there anything else?" he asked,

Severus frowned. "No, I suppose not," he said. "Just take care," he added. "And do not hesitate to contact me if you need to talk. I'll be here throughout the break, and I'm always willing to talk if it would help."

Harrison stood up, still feeling numb and a bit nauseous. "Is there enough time for me go to the Owlery before curfew?" he asked in a hushed voice. "I need to send a letter to my aunt. She has a tendency to overreact if me or my father get hurt."

"You've got about an hour, but if you haven't made it back to the Common Room in half an hour, I'm coming to find you myself," Severus said. He made another few gestures with his wand before motioning toward the door. "That's all I have," he said. "But let me know if there's anything I can do. And I will let you know if I find out any more information."

Harrison nodded again. "Thank you," he said quietly before he walked out of the room and headed back toward Draco and Theo's dorm room.

All movement in the room stopped when Harrison walked back into the room.

"Are you alright?" Blaise asked finally. "You look like you're going to pass out. Or vomit."

Harrison shook his head. "I'll be fine," he said. "I just need my notebook, please," he said.

"Are you sure?" Draco asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. Blaise, give me my notebook," he said. As soon as he had it, he sent Pansy an apologetic smile. "We'll have to pick this up some other time," he said, motioning at his half-finished french braid. "I need to go pack for tomorrow morning."

Everyone else, apart from Blaise, seemed to accept his answer, but it was clear that no one believed him. Fortunately, though, no one stopped him when he left the room.

Harrison went back into his own room, scribbled a quick note in Russian on a piece of paper ripped from his notebook, and shoved it into his pocket. As soon as that was done, he pulled on his shoes and quickly slipped out of the Slytherin house. When the wall of the common room slid shut behind him with a dull thud, he started off in a run toward the secret passage that led to a shortcut to the Owlery.

It didn't take him long to get there, since there was no one else in the halls and the portraits seemed to be entirely uninterested in him.

"Ramses?" he called, looking around for Draco's horned owl. "Ramses, I need you to do me a favor," he said, smiling when the owl came down and perched on his shoulder. Harrison pulled the note from his pocket and attached it to the owl's leg. "I need you to take this to my aunt Bella as quickly as you can, and you can't let anyone else see it," he said quietly.

The owl hooted quietly, nipping affectionately at Harrison's ear before taking off.

Harrison watched the owl fly until he could no longer see it, and only then did he turn to leave the Owlery.

"Sending some kind of letter off to your Death Eater father?" Ron asked with a sneer.

"My father isn't a Death Eater, Weasley," Harrison said evenly as he tried to step past the other boy. "Not that it's any of your concern, but I was sending a letter to my aunt. She wanted to know when to take me shopping for dress robes."

"And you think it's a good time now to send her a letter about robes?" he asked, shoving Harrison toward the window of the Owlery. "And it's so important that no one else can read the letter but your aunt?" he asked with another shove.

Some of the owls started to hoot loudly, quickly getting upset at the argument disturbing their silence, but none of them intervened.

Harrison glared at Ron, waiting for the other boy to say something that would give him an excuse to give him a black eye. So when Ron took a deep breath and stepped back, he was completely surprised.

"JJ told me that you rejected his invitation to his family's holiday ball and he told me that I wasn't going to be allowed to come either until I apologized," he said.

"Why would your apology have anything to do with Potter's invitation?" Harrison asked, deliberately moving so that Ron was standing between him and the window.

"Because," Ron said through gritted teeth. "He said that it's my fault you turned him down and that I was supposed to fix it. So tell me you don't hate me so that I can spend the holidays with JJ like I'm supposed to."

At that, Harrison smirked a bit. "Hate is far too strong a word for what I feel for you," he said. "I don't care about any kind of problem between you and Potter, but whatever it is, leave me out of it," he said, making to leave the Owlery. He made it about three steps before Ron grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the room.

"That's not how this is going to work," Ron hissed. He grabbed Harrison's other arm and shoved the smaller boy roughly against the wall.

Harrison smirked again, showing no reaction to the pain as his head bounced against the wall. "I'm going to give you one chance to let go of me before I start screaming," he said quietly. "See, Professor Snape knows I'm here, and he's expecting me back soon. I'm willing to bet that you decided to sneak out and track me down somehow, and that you didn't tell anyone where you were going. Maybe you just told JJ," he said. "But the point is, I have a professor expecting me, and if I start to scream and people come to see what's going on, they'll be on my side."

"No, they won't," Ron snapped, tightening his hold on Harrison's arms and shaking him roughly. "You're a _snake_! A slimy snake that lies!"

"That's what's going to sell it," Harrison said. "Your unbiased hatred of me, of all Slytherins, and your history of attacking me. The bruises are going to help, too, of course, so there's really not much you've got to defend yourself," he said, a cold smile on his face.

"They won't believe you," Ron snapped, though he had a confused, almost scared look on his face.

"Care to put that to the test?" Harrison asked, readying himself to scream and hoping the owls wouldn't decide to attack him when he did so. "You've got six seconds to let go of me."

For a brief second, it looked like Ron was actually going to see if Harrison would go through with it, but he let go of him and stepped back. "Fine," he snapped, sounding angrier now than when he'd first cornered Harrison. "But this means war."

"I'm sure," Harrison said, biting back a scoff as he stepped away from the wall and brushed the dirt and straw off of his shirt. "As you can see, you've left me trembling in my boots."

"Did I interrupt something?" a female voice asked from just inside the Owlery.

Ron looked over at her, grinning when he recognized the girl. "Hey 'Mione," he said. "You'll back me up, right? This snake tried to frame me for something that I didn't do! He's trying to say that I was trying to attack him!"

Harrison smirked. "Of course I was," he said. "A false claim that just happens to be backed up by the fact that I am the only one here with bruises. Come after me again, Weasley, and not only won't I use restraint, but I can guarantee you'll have at least a dozen Slytherins after your blood," he said.

"Coward!" Ron said with a triumphant sneer. "You just admitted that you don't fight your own battles!"

"No, what he said-"

"Stay out of this, mudblood. This doesn't concern you," Harrison said coldly. He didn't spare so much as one glance in her direction. "What I meant, Weasley, is that I have friends who have wanted your blood since you attacked me in Potions class at the beginning of the semester," he said. "I've told them to hold off before, but if I decide to go to the professors, then I've got no way to stop them from going after you." He looked over at the girl, Mione, apparently. "You need to learn to mind your own business."

She flushed red and looked abruptly away from Harrison as he walked past her.

Harrison didn't look behind himself as he made his way back to the Slytherin Common Room.

"Delacroix," Severus said, stepping out of his office. "You're late."

At that, Harrison stopped. He turned to face his head of house, smirking up at the man. "Professor," he said with a grin. "If you decide to make it a habit to check up on me, people might start to get the impression that you care," he said.

"Mind your tongue, brat," Severus said, though there was almost the hint of amusement on his face. When he noticed the telling signs of bruises starting to form on Harrison's arms, he frowned. "What happened?" he asked. "And don't lie to me about it," he added quickly.

Harrison scowled. "I had a run-in with a student who doesn't like me," he said. "But, really, it's nothing to be worried about," he said. "He's not going to start anything serious."

"Of course not. Come with me," the older man said, holding his office door open.

"Why?"

"I'll give you a salve for the bruises, and I'm going to check you over for any other injuries," Severus said. "After that, you can go back to your room and finish packing."

"Do I have to?" Harrison asked.

"If you don't, I'll take it to the Headmaster that you were attacked and I'll make this a big deal, regardless of how much trouble it would make for you," Severus said. Judging by the slight smirk on his face, he knew that his threat would be effective, and he held his door open further as Harrison trudged inside, his scowl deepening as he went.

He dropped onto the chair he'd been sitting in earlier but didn't move while Severus looked him over.

"The back of your head is bleeding."

"I tripped," Harrison said shortly.

"You're lying," Severus countered quickly.

He smirked up at the professor. "I handled the problem on my own, sir," he said. "Really, it' s nothing you need to worry about."

"You are one of my students, Harrison, and part of my responsibilities include making sure that I don't have to worry about finding your dead body after an argument has gotten out of hand and Weasley's shoved you off one of the moving staircases," Severus said, frowning when he realized that the wound on the back of Harrison's head was worse than he'd first thought. "You might have a mild concussion."

"But I don't-"

"Harrison," Severus said sharply. "Keep your mouth shut and let me do my job," he said before tapping his wand lightly against the back of Harrison's head.

Harrison squirmed a bit, not liking the feeling of his flesh knitting itself back together.

Severus quickly finished his inspection and deemed Harrison almost completely healthy. "Wait here," he said, standing up and looking at the vials of potions on the top shelf along the left side of the room.

"I don't mean to cause any problems, sir," Harrison said, watching as the Potions Master looked through part of his stores.

"I know, Harrison," Severus said without looking away from his shelves. "You do seem to have a knack for it, though," he added.

He shifted in his seat. "And I don't have any intention of ending up as a dead body at Weasley's hands," he said, for the moment accepting that Severus knew who was harassing him.

"No one ever intends to end up murdered, but it still happens."

"No, sir, you misunderstand me," Harrison said, his eyes hardening as Severus pulled two vials off the shelf and turning back to him. "If it comes down to it, Weasley is going to be the one dead from being shoved over a bannister," he said, unintentionally channeling his father.

Severus' lips thinned a bit and, for a long moment, he didn't say anything. "Harrison," he said, speaking quietly but making sure that he had the boy's full attention. "I have no doubt that you are ready to stand by your word and follow through with that threat, but if I ever find out that you've told anyone else that you're willing to kill another student, Azkaban will be the least of your worries. Am I clear?" he asked.

Harrison nodded. "Perfectly, sir," he said.

"Good. Now, the clear liquid will get rid of any concussion that you may or may not have. There are no side effects to worry about if you don't have one, since this is one of my milder Concussion Relievers. Just drink it before you go to sleep and you'll be fine," he said, handing one vial to Harrison. "This one," he said, holding up the second vial, which had a thick, light green paste inside. "is a Bruise Salve. Spread it on your bruises and make sure that it's covered evenly. Leave it on for ten minutes, and then wash it off with cold water."

"How cold?"

"Are you being insolent with me?"

"Just a little bit, sir," he said with a grin.

Severus smirked. "Cold enough that you need to worry about frostbite," he said, pressing the vial into Harrison's hand. "If you leave it on for too long, your arms will start to turn green, and if you come to me with green arms, I will just lord your incompetence over you and send you off to Lucius Malfoy for him to deal with," he said, his smirk getting more smug.

"Fine," Harrison said, adopting his own smirk.

"Do you have any questions for me?" he asked.

Harrison opened his mouth to ask a question, but something must have shown on his face, as Severus held up his hand to stop him before he could get out so much as one word.

"Do not give me the chance to give you a detention," Severus said, still smirking. "Because I will have you scrubbing cauldrons by hand until your palms are raw, unless you'd rather use a toothbrush to mop the classroom floors," he said.

"It sounds like fun, sir," Harrison said, tucking the two vials into the pocket of his black lounge pants. "Is there more, or would you like me to stay here and keep talking with you?" he asked.

"Out," Severus said in an almost amused tone.

Harrison stood up and headed out of the man's office.

When he slipped into his dorm room, he found Blaise sitting on his bed, apparently waiting for his return. "What?" he asked.

"You're bleeding," Blaise said quietly.

"Professor Snape fixed it, and I'm not sharing any of my blood with you right now," Harrison said. "Did you finish your chess game?" he asked.

"Draco won," Blaise muttered darkly. "And you finished packing before breakfast this morning," he said.

"What's your point?"

Blaise shrugged. "I was just wondering where you were going at half past nine at night that you needed to lie about it," he said quietly. "And you still look like you're going to be sick."

Harrison shrugged. "Professor Snape and I got into an argument and I decided to walk around and clear my head a bit," he said. "There's really nothing to be worried about."

"Are you sure?"

Harrison scowled a bit and looked over at Blaise, a mild glare on his face.

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Fine," he said, leaning back on his bed. "I'll drop it." The _for now_ didn't need to be said aloud.

"I'm going to take a bath and then I'm going to go to bed," Harrison said.

Blaise nodded. He didn't say anything else, but Harrison could feel Blaise's eyes on his back as he pulled a fresh pair of pajamas from his trunk and headed into the bathroom.

...

The next morning, after a night of sleeplessness and an equally sleepless train ride back to King's Cross, Harrison found himself shoving his way through the crowd, looking for a familiar blonde.

"Harrison, my love," someone purred as she wrapped her arms around Harrison's chest and pulled him back into a hug. "It's been too long," she said. "And you've grown up far too much in your absence."

"Auntie. I missed you, too," he said, turning around in the embrace and smiling up at the disguised Bellatrix. "I want to go home, please," he said as Bellatrix quickly shrank his trunk and handed it back to Harrison. He shoved it into the pocket of his robes and allowed Bellatrix to pull him into another hug.

"You don't want to stay and say hello to my dear cousin? I'm sure Lucius would appreciate the gesture."

Harrison shook his head. "I just want to be alone at home right now," he said.

His aunt, in her blonde disguise, nodded and led Harrison toward the back of the station, where they would be at least partially hidden by shadows. "We've got an unwanted guest at your family manor," she said. "And she doesn't seem to be able to take the hint that only one sadistic woman is needed in the house, which makes her even more worthless."

At that news, Harrison paused. "She can't get into Papa's study, can she?" he asked.

Bellatrix thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. "I'm fairly certain that he's taken the necessary measures to make it impenetrable. For her kind, at least," she said.

"Good," Harrison said. "Then we'll go there to talk before I speak with her," he said, his expression darkening as his mind turned to Serena.

That seemed to please Bellatrix, as she pulled him into a tight embrace and looked around, making sure that no one was watching them too closely before she Apparated out of King's Cross. She made three brief stopovers - first in France, then Austria and Estonia - before Apparating the two of them into Antonin's study in his Manor.

Harrison looked around, relaxing a bit when he realized that it hadn't been changed at all since he'd left. Even the picture on Antonin's desk, taken on Harrison's eighth birthday, was the same. He grinned down at the picture, feeling the same sense of relief at being home again, and waved back when both Antonin and his eight year old self waved at him. "You're sure this room is safe for us to talk?" he asked.

Bellatrix looked around and checked the magic of the room. About five minutes later, she nodded. "That old leech can't get in here, either whole or in pieces," she said. "Why?"

"In pieces?" Harrison asked, for the moment ignoring Bella's question.

"I might have suggested that your father would appreciate decapitating the hag and hanging her head in here as a trophy," she said with a shrug. "What has you so worried?"

Harrison sighed heavily and fell into his father's chair. He watched as Bella perched on top of Antonin's desk, smiling slightly when he and his father, in the picture, both stuck their tongues out at Bellatrix. He reached into the messenger bag he was still wearing and tossed his charmed notebook onto the desk. He murmured a Russian phrase and tapped the book with his left middle finger, wandlessly removing the hexes that would be activated if someone tried to pick up and open the notebook.

Never one to be shy about things, Bellatrix picked it up and flipped through the pages, grinning wickedly when she wasn't able to read anything. "You've warded this well," she said. "And I'm assuming you've gotten more proficient at wandless magic while you were away at school," she said, setting the book back onto the desk in front of herself.

"I can't do anything big yet, but I'm still stronger than I was in August," he said. "How much has Papa told you about his blood?"

"Enough," Bellatrix said. At an expectant look from Harrison, she grinned again, though there was a slightly unhinged look in her eyes that had the younger boy on edge. "I know that you were only about a year old when he performed the blood adoption, and that you were vomiting so much blood during the transition that Antonin thought you'd end up dead. And I know that Serena's been after your father to suck something more vile than what I've had in mind," she said, her grin taking on a lecherous quality.

Harrison scowled but filed away the first part of what Bella had told him. He'd do his best to learn more about blood adoptions over his break, but at the moment, he needed to focus. "First of all, that's gross. I'm still a little kid, Auntie!"

"No, my love, you're practically a man now," she said. "Let's get this talk over with before the old bitch decides to try and crash our party."

"Did Papa get any orders from the Dark Lord?" he asked.

Bellatrix shook her head. "He's been under strict orders to make sure that you are prepared for the Malfoy's ball and for your conversation with the Dark Lord," she said. "And my Lord still thinks that I require some kind of handler, so he's been keeping a close eye on me."

"And has he said anything about giving Serena any kind of permission?" he asked.

Bellatrix shook her head. "He's not going to do that, my love. He worries far too much about you to allow himself to fall under the thrall of that used up old leech," she said. "Why?"

"Professor Snape told me last night that Papa had been attacked and that he was going on some kind of assignment," Harrison said, absently rubbing his cheek as he thought things over. He muttered a few things under his breath before standing up suddenly. "You're sure you don't know where he is?"

She frowned, and Harrison could tell that she was quickly getting worried as well. "He told me nothing of receiving orders from our Lord, but I know how to contact the Dark Lord and I'll speak with him about this," she said.

Harrison paused. "You're sure that he's going to help, and that he won't just kill Papa when he finds him?" he asked.

"Your father is an excellent soldier for our Lord," Bellatrix said. "He's not going to be killed without good reason. Would you like me to stay while you track down the -"

"I can talk to Serena without your help," Harrison said. "I just want to find Papa as soon as possible, and I want him to not be hurt when we track him down," he said, standing up and taking his trunk out of his pocket. He poked it with his wand and it returned to its original size. "Slinky?" he called.

"Young Master is returned!" the house elf said, popping in with a happy grin. "Slinky and the others have been missing Young Master since he is being away!"

Harrison grinned. "I missed you too, Slinky," he said.

That had the house elf laughing happily and clapping her hands together. "And what is Slinky being able to do for Young Master?"

"I need you to take my trunk to my room," Harrison said.

"Is Young Master wanting Slinky to be unpacking the trunk?'

Harrison shrugged. "If you'd like," he said.

Slinky nodded and disappeared with a loud pop, the trunk going with her.

"Auntie?" he asked, looking up at Bellatrix as she got off of Antonin's desk. "Do you have an Animagus form?" he asked.

She seemed completely unsurprised by the sudden change in subject. "I do," she said.

"What is it? Your Animagus, I mean."

"I am a hyena, my love," Bella purred. "You are a bit young, but you are also disciplined. And magically strong, especially for one your age. I can start to teach you, if you'd like," she said.

Harrison offered his aunt a weak smile at that. "Maybe," he said. "But I want to know where Papa is before I decide to do or try anything else," he said.

"I'm off to the Dark Lord, then, my love," she said. "If all goes well, I'll be back in time for a late lunch in the garden."

"There's a foot of snow in the garden, Auntie," Harrison said, laughing quietly.

"Then we'll have lunch in the dining room and I'll make sure you're prepared for the dances that will happen at the Malfoy party," she said. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Harrison's head, making him scowl at his lack of height. "Good luck with the bloodsucker, my love."

He looked up at her. "And you be safe as well," he said. "Don't mouth off to the Dark Lord and all," he said.

She nodded and straightened herself. "Make sure you've got something good for lunch when I get back," she said.

Harrison nodded and watched as she Apparated out of the Manor again. He took a deep breath, hoping that it would calm him at least slightly. Instead, it did nothing to soothe his nerves. Doing his best not to seem too out of sorts, he straightened his clothes, set his messenger bag on his father's desk, and slipped his wand into a pocket of his robes. Once that was done, he headed out of his office, wondering where Serena would be, and if she was even still in the Manor.

Both of his questions were answered when she appeared without notice in front of him. He'd taken no more than three steps out of his father's study, and he immediately squashed the urge to run back into the study and hide.

"Young Prince Dolohov," she said with a mock-bow. "I understand you have questions."

"Has my father made you any promises?" Harrison asked, lacking the patience to indulge in the games that Serena seemed keen to play with him.

She smiled cruelly down at him. "I see my son has been keeping you well informed as to his family," she said. "Tell me, have you made any promises to my son? He's already told me that you've allowed him a taste."

"This is not about me," Harrison said coldly, doing his best to sound more in control than he felt. It seemed to have worked, as Serena frowned slightly and knelt down to be closer to eye level with him.

"What has you worried, little prince?" she asked.

"Why are you calling me prince, first of all?" Harrison asked.

"Your bloodline is as royalty to my kind, little prince. I know well to flatter those who have something that I want," she said, her voice little more than a purr. When Harrison frowned and took half a step back, her pupils dilated and her canines slowly started sharpening into points. "Do not run, little prince. It has been quite some time since I've had a good hunt, and your father will not appreciate my bleeding you dry," she said.

At that, Harrison's fright turned to anger and he glared at Serena. "Where is he?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I've been told that he's been attacked and forced to go into hiding to stay alive," Harrison snapped. Unbeknownst to him, his pupils momentarily changed shape, going from the round of human pupils to the slits of feline eyes. "And I want to know what the fuck you did to him!"

Serena's smirk disappeared and she bared her teeth at Harrison, though it seemed to be something of second nature to her. "I did nothing to your father. He has been unresponsive to my attempts to court him and I pride myself on not needing to resort to force to get what I want," she said, standing up. "What do you know?"

"That my father was attacked and went into hiding, and that you're the biggest threat to his life and you've been hounding after his blood since he invited you and your son over to dinner before Blaise and I started at Hogwarts!" Harrison snapped.

Serena stood up. "I give you my word, little prince, that I have not laid hands nor fangs on your father," she said.

"Then you'd best help me find him."

"You dare presume to deliver orders to me?" she asked, affronted.

Harrison smirked coldly up at her, regaining his confidence. "You've dared to pursue my father when he's made it clear he wants you to leave him the hell alone. If you're truly so bent on courting him properly and getting on his good side, then it's in your best interest to find him before he's broken or killed," he said. His eyes flashed again, and as he finished speaking, he clenched his fists and all the windows on the second floor of the Manor shattered violently.

Serena was silent for a long moment. She watched Harrison with a judging look in her eyes, and whatever it is that she was looking for, she seemed to find. She straightened herself and brushed an invisible piece of lint off of her obnoxiously expensive gown. "I will see what my relatives have to say, little prince, but I can guarantee nothing," she said.

"Just do what you can," Harrison said, unclenching and clenching his fists. "I refuse to be orphaned, and I fully intend to make sure that whoever hurt my father is punished properly," he said.

She nodded. "I trust I will be allowed back in this Manor upon my return?" she asked, though her voice had taken on something of a respectful tone, as though she was speaking with a superior rather than an eleven year old boy.

"I won't take any actions to prevent you from entering," Harrison said. "Please hurry."

Serena bowed again, though this time there was nothing mocking about her action. "As you wish, little prince," she said. In his next breath, Serena had disappeared from sight.

Harrison let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and leaned heavily against the wall. Bellatrix and Serena were by far his two best resources, and he didn't know how much he'd be able to do while he was waiting for the two women to return with their information. "Slinky?" he called after a moment.

The house elf appeared seconds later. "Is Young Master being alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said. "Could you do me a favor and see if Lucius Malfoy is at home and if he's got enough spare time to meet with me?" he asked.

"Of course! Slinky is happy to being able to do favors for Young Master," she said.

"And if he's not at home, could you check and see if he's at his office and what time he has lunch?" Harrison asked. Draco had mentioned something about his father working three days straight to pass a few key laws in the Ministry. He didn't know how much help Lucius Malfoy would be, but with his position, he hopefully had at least the right connections for Harrison to use.

Slinky nodded fervently. "Is Young Master being needing anything else from Slinky?"

"That's it for now, thank you," Harrison said, and Slinky popped away. Once she was gone, he absently made his way to the sitting room on the first floor. If anything, he could have Topsy, their second house elf, serve a late lunch while he waited for information.

That wasn't necessary.

When he took his second step into the sitting room, he saw Lucius Malfoy stepping out of the fireplace and dusting himself off. "Hello, sir," he said, offering the man a small smile.

"Harrison," Lucius said. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

Harrison shook his head. "I know that you're busy, and you were either with Draco and Lady Malfoy or you were at work, and that it's rude to send a house elf without first asking permission, but I was hoping you'd have some advice for me."

Lucius smirked a bit. "Draco is worried about you," he said. "He informed me that you were unusually aloof on the train, and your father and I have reached an agreement that if a house elf is sent to me from your Manor, it constitutes an emergency. What is it?"

"Papa's missing, and I was told that he was hurt before he disappeared. I asked Aunt Bella to find out whatever she can, and my father's been hosting Lady Zabini since July. She's out looking for information too, but I don't know what else to do and I was hoping you'd be able to help me somehow," he said in a rush. Hopefully Lucius had been able to understand everything he'd just said, because he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep it together. He'd been fine, until for some reason, Lucius showed up and brought up the concern and terror that Harrison had been doing his best to bury.

"Bellatrix went to the Dark Lord, I assume?" Lucius asked after a brief pause.

Harrison nodded.

Lucius hummed quietly. "I have a few contacts that I can ask for information," he said. "As long as you keep Bellatrix out of my home for the entirety of your Yule break."

"Of course," Harrison said with a small smile. "I'll do everything I can," he said.

That answer seemed to mollify Lucius, even if only temporarily. "Acceptable," he said. "You are safe in this Manor," he said. Harrison nodded, but Lucius ignored him. "I want you to stay inside until I return," he said. "You are not to so much as step onto the terrace in my absence, am I understood?"

Harrison nodded again. "Yes, sir," he said.

"I will try to be back within the hour," Lucius said, pulling a small handful of Floo powder out of the vase on the mantle.

"Thank you, sir," Harrison said, watching as the Malfoy patriarch tossed the powder into the fireplace and stepped inside. When he was gone, and when the fire had settled again, Harrison flopped onto the couch in front of the fireplace and closed his eyes. Maybe he'd be able to get some sleep while he waited for information to reach him.

...

Some time later - he wasn't sure exactly how long he'd managed to actually sleep - Harrison jerked awake when someone rested a hand on his shoulder. He looked around, panicking slightly until he saw Lucius Malfoy.

"Are you alright, child?" he asked, looking unusually concerned for someone who wasn't his own son.

"Just tired, sir," Harrison said. "What did you find out?"

"My contacts were unable to give me anything, Harrison," he said. "They are all going to start extending their claws, so to speak, into their own contacts, and they have promised to get back with me as soon as they learn anything." At Harrison's slight frown, Lucius smirked. "They all believe that they are looking for my drunkard younger cousin. If they find your father in his Glamour, that's who they'll recognize, but if your father went out without his Glamour, there are people in certain parts of the world that will execute him on sight."

"You certainly have a way of comforting scared children, Lucius," a new male voice said from the threshold of the sitting room.

Lucius immediately recognized the voice, and as soon as he saw the man, he bowed deeply to him. "My lord," he said. "Harrison is a bright child and there is no point in lying to him when the situation is as dire as it is," he said.

The Dark Lord smirked. "I'm sure," he said. "Go back to your Manor. I'm sure your wife and child are eagerly awaiting your return."

Lucius bowed again and once again left through the Floo.

"In the future, when you'd like to attempt to get information from me, sending Bellatrix is not a wise move," the Dark Lord said as he moved further into the room and sat on the couch.

Harrison rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and straightened up as the older man took a seat on the couch next to him. "I'm sorry, sir," he said. "Did she do something wrong?"

"Nothing I plan on drawing blood for, given the circumstances," he said. "I haven't sent your father on any assignments since he took you in," he said. "And he is not the type of man to go off on any sort of rogue mission."

Harrison was silent for a moment, staring at his hands as he debated whether or not to ask the question that had been in the back of his mind since he spoke to Serena. "Sir," he started hesitantly. "What do you know of my father's blood?"

The Dark Lord smirked. "I know that his blood, and yours, is part of the most valuable human bloodline in history when it comes to dealing with the vampires," he said. At the shocked look on Harrison's face, he chuckled quietly. "I have known your father since he was your age, Harrison, and he has learned that I keep the secrets of those who have pledged me their loyalty and service," he said. "You will learn the same lesson in time, unless you've decided to change your allegiances," he added.

"No, sir," Harrison said. "I'm not going to put myself at the risk of having to fight my father in a real duel instead of practice ones. Or Bella, for that matter."

"You are an intelligent child," the Dark Lord said with a smirk. "I expect you've started to worry that it was a vampire that attacked your father?" he asked.

Harrison nodded. "Blaise told me that my bloodline is coveted, and that securing an oath of loyalty from us to get our blood would help to put certain vampires at the top of their hierarchy. We've got the strongest human blood running through our veins," he said.

The Dark Lord nodded. "I will do what I can to find your father, but I can't afford to make him my only priority," he said.

"Any help you can give is greatly appreciated, sir," Harrison said.

"I do have something that will help protect you, though," the man said as he reached into his pocket.

"Why would you want to protect me?" Harrison asked, confused. His brow furrowed as he watched the Dark Lord take something shiny and gold out of his pocket.

The man looked over at Harrison with an odd, almost evaluating look on his face. "I went through a great deal of trouble to make sure that you were safe here with Antonin. He's taken you in as his son and he invests a great deal of energy in ensuring your safety. The blood adoption replaced all your previous blood with the best of the old blood, and if your father is to be believed, it was even made a bit stronger because of the magic in your blood before the adoption," he said. "Of course, I prefer a different answer altogether."

"What's that?"

"I am the Dark Lord, Harrison," he said, taking hold of Harrison's hand and turning it almost gently so that his palm was facing up. "You are the child of one of my followers, and as such, you belong to me. I can do with you whatever I like," he said.

For reasons unknown to him, Harrison laughed quietly at that. He fell silent, though, when the Dark Lord dropped a gold locket into his hands.

"Wear this at all times," he said.

"A locket, sir?" Harrison asked, looking up at the man.

"When it it fastened around your neck, it becomes invisible to everyone else but yourself. The important part about the locket, though, is that it will alter the scent of your blood enough to make it smell weaker than it really is," he said. "Vampires will be less interested in your blood, whether they have tasted it or not. It will not dilute their knowledge, so keep your secrets to yourself."

Harrison nodded, looking over the locket. It was small, and had an elaborate "s" engraved on the top. "It's beautiful," he said quietly.

The Dark Lord smiled slightly. "It is. You will take good care of it, I trust," he said.

"Yes, sir," he said, immediately putting it on.

That action satisfied the Dark Lord, if the sudden smugness of his smirk was anything to go by. He stood up. "I will do what I can to find out your father's whereabouts, and you will receive an owl from me if I learn anything of import," he said.

"Thank you, sir," Harrison said, standing up as well. He bowed to the man. "It was an honor having you in our Manor, and I promise I'll take care of your locket," he said.

The Dark Lord didn't say anything else. Instead, he Apparated out of the Manor with a barely audible pop.

As soon as he left, Harrison looked down at the locket. It felt a bit warm to the touch, he realized, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He tucked it under his shirt and headed to the sitting room. If Bellatrix had returned, there was a good bet that she'd decided to demand specific dishes for lunch. Or dinner. Or both, really.

On his way to the kitchen, Serena stepped out from the shadows of the ballroom, which hadn't been used for as long as Harrison could remember. "Hello, little prince," she said, an odd tone to her voice.

"What's wrong?" Harrison asked, immediately alert.

"I did not find your father," she said. "But I know why he went into hiding, and I'm afraid it's troubling news."

"What is it?" Harrison asked, getting a bit irritated with Serena's habit of drawing things out instead of getting straight to the point.

"It has reached a number of incredibly powerful vampires that you and your father are the last members of the old blood, and that yours is the line bred by the vampire you've been calling Kostova," she said. With a slight smirk at Harrison's confused look, she ran her fingers along Harrison's jaw. "There is very little that my son hides from me," she said. "And there is something different about your blood. It smells different than it did when I left you."

"The Dark Lord offered his assistance," Harrison said shortly.

"As honorable as that was of him, little prince, it will not keep you hidden forever. You need to learn the most effective ways to repel vampires before the same thing happens to you as happened to your father."

"Was that a threat?" Harrison asked, his voice turning to a growl.

"Not at all, little prince. It was merely a warning, and a bit of advice to help you," she said. "I'll pop in occasionally to see how your studies are going, but I've missed my son a great deal," she she before again disappearing into the shadows.

"Slinky!" Harrison called as he headed for the stairs.

The house elf appeared at his side, but had to jog to keep up. "What is it that Slinky is being able to be doing-"

"Is Bella here?" Harrison asked, taking the steps two at a time.

"Lady Guest is being in the kitchen, asking for having eclairs," Slinky said.

Harrison nodded once. "Tell her that I'm going to be in the library for a few hours," he said. He didn't pay the house elf too much attention as she disappeared. Instead, he ducked into his father's study, grabbed his warded notebook, and made his way to the library, stopping for nothing on his way.


	12. Chapter 12

Pretend there's a disclaimer here.

Enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated.

**Chapter 12**

Harrison scowled when he saw what his aunt was holding up. "No," he said, shrinking into himself in the hopes that he'd disappear behind the large stack of books that he'd piled on the table in front of the couch. "Not happening."

"Don't play coy with me, Harrison," Bellatrix said as she sauntered in the room. "I made it a point to choose your family's house colors. Purple and white, right?" she asked, looking down at the dress robes she'd brought into the library.

"Our purple is darker than that and it's more ivory than white," Harrison said, going back to his book and doing his best to ignore her.

Bellatrix scowled. "I'll help you change the colors then. You can practice your wandless magic before you have to get in the shower. Come now, put your book down and let's go. There are only a few hours left before we have to leave, and Narcissa is expecting the both of us to show up," she said.

Harrison peeked out over the top of the book only enough to pin a glare on her. "I don't want to go," he said, not liking the whining tone that seeped into his voice. "I haven't talked to Draco since the week that break started and he already told me that the Zabinis are coming."

"I thought the two of you were friends, you and Blaise."

"He wants me to pledge an oath of loyalty to him so that he can have my blood whenever he gets thirsty. Or whenever he wants to prove himself powerful enough to go up against some other vampire," Harrison said darkly.

"Then spend the evening ignoring him. I'll keep you busy," she said with a lecherous grin.

Harrison didn't say anything, but he did set his book down and look over at her.

She dropped down on the couch next to him and pulled him into a hug, absently tossing the dress robes on top of Harrison's pile of books. "You've been living in the library since you got back from break almost two weeks ago," she said, looking over the books that Harrison was reading. The majority of the books had to do with vampires, but there were a significant number of them about the Animagus transformation. The book that Harrison was reading when she'd come in was one of them. "What have you been working on?" she asked.

"I want to be able to complete my Animagus transformation before I graduate," Harrison said quietly, leaning into the woman's embrace. "And I want to know how to make it so that Blaise won't ever pester me for my blood again."

"He really pissed you off, didn't he?"

"He wrote a letter two days ago, telling me that he misses my heartbeat and the smell of my blood when I get angry," he said with a heavy sigh. "And when his mother delivered the letter, she gave me a book about vampire hierarchies."

"And where's that one?"

"In my room." He shifted a bit, looking uncomfortable. "Have you heard anything?" he asked. "Serena didn't know anything more, but she said that she's getting close."

Bellatrix was silent for a moment before shaking her head slightly. "I haven't heard anything. There should be some people who know things at the ball tonight, and I'll talk to them tonight. After that, I'll take you out to see the Northern Lights and we can say a prayer for your father."

"Who would we pray to?" Harrison asked. "Papa's not a good man, and the creatures that are after him aren't exactly the religious type." He took a deep breath and looked up at Bellatrix, his face suddenly devoid of the stress that had been plaguing him since he'd first heard that his father was missing. "If you promise to keep me away from the bloodsuckers tonight, I'll even foxtrot with you," he said.

That had Bella grinning like a loon and she stood up, pulling Harrison with her. "You have my word on my sanity," she said, and Harrison laughed at that. Bella picked up the dress robes. "We've got time enough to fix your robes and then get you something to eat before we head off to my sister's little party," she said.

Harrison smiled, doing his best to shove his grief at his father's continued absence to the back of his mind. He followed Bellatrix, feeling oddly willing to listen to her without putting up too much of a fight.

Neither of them said anything as they got ready for the ball. Harrison's mind had turned back to his research while Bella seemed to know that silence would be more appreciated. With the lack of conversation back and forth, everything went by much quicker than usual and the two of them were ready to go within an hour.

They'd even had enough time to sit for something of a dinner, though Bellatrix had insisted that they eat chocolate eclairs and blueberries instead of a full course meal. It was nearing the end of their meal when Bellatrix stopped abruptly.

"Harrison, my love?" she asked.

He set down his glass of water and looked up at her, not saying anything.

"Where did you get that necklace?" she asked, looking concerned and... almost jealous.

Harrison looked down quickly at his necklace, unable to stop the quick smile from forming on his face. "When the Dark Lord came over after you went to him for information, he gave it to me as some kind of protection against the vampires," he said. "I promised to take care of it, and I figured he'd want me to keep it a secret, otherwise I would have told you before now," he added, tucking it back under his shirt. The pendant was surprisingly warm, and when Harrison touched it, it seemed for a moment like it had a heartbeat.

Bellatrix watched him for a moment, smiling at him after a moment. "It is an honor to be blessed by the Dark Lord in such a manner," she said. "Especially for someone as young as you are."

"Is there something I need to do to repay him for this?"

"I'm sure he'll tell you that when you speak again," Bellatrix said as she stood up. "You two are still having a conversation tomorrow, don't you remember?" she asked.

Harrison nodded. "He's spending the night here, isn't he?"

She smiled. "He is," she said. "I would hope that I don't need to tell you to be on your best behavior? And to speak only in English or French during the ball?" she asked.

Harrison shook his head and followed Bellatrix to the main hall of the Manor.

"Get close," she said, pulling Harrison close to herself as she spoke. She looked ready to Apparate them out to Malfoy Manor when she frowned and leaned down, inspecting Harrison's dress robes and his hair.

"What's wrong?" Harrison asked, suddenly feeling self conscious. He shuffled a bit, but didn't try to move away from his aunt.

"Narcissa can fix your hair once we get to the Manor. We're about an hour early, so she can help," Bellatrix said.

Harrison scowled but didn't say anything as he was once again pulled into Bellatrix's embrace, and with a loud crack, she Apparated the two of them to Malfoy Manor.

They were greeted right away by Draco, who ran down the stairs to greet Harrison.

"You're here!" he said, pulling the shorter boy into an uncharacteristic hug. What was more surprising was that he refused to release Harrison from the embrace. "Father told me about your father after you asked for his help, and he's been working all his contacts. I told Pansy to ask her father if he's heard anything about the Delacroix family, but it's all quiet on her front," he said in a hushed tone.

"Draco, do try not to strangle your guest," Narcissa said gently as she too descended the stairs. "Harrison, I am so sorry to hear about your father. Is there any news?" she asked.

Harrison shook his head, suddenly losing his voice. He felt the hot prick of tears behind his eyes and leaned into Draco's embrace, dropping his head on Draco's shoulder to hide his tears, feeling the other boy tighten the embrace. He wouldn't have to thank the boy, and he knew that Draco would never use this moment against him.

"Cissy, I was hoping that you'd be able to fix Harrison's hair. He's got it in that ridiculous bun, and I refuse to believe that you lack the skills to make him look completely breathtaking," Bellatrix said, effectively ruining the moment.

Draco and Harrison separated, watching the interaction between the two sisters in silence.

Narcissa hummed quietly before nodding. "I'll take care of Harrison's hair as soon as you adopt your Glamour. You may be early, Bella, but you're still a fugitive and I would rather not see my sister being arrested tonight."

Bellatrix scowled but nodded. She held out her hand for Narcissa's wand, and, as soon as she had it in her hand, she tapped it against her forehead. Her appearance immediately changed, morphing from the lithe, dark-haired woman Harrison had known since before he could remember into a woman who more closely resembled Narcissa. She was about two inches shorter than Narcissa but equally as thin, with champagne blonde hair that reached just past her shoulders and dark blue eyes that still glinted with Bellatrix's unique lack of complete sanity. "Does this meet with your approval?" she asked as she made a few adjustments to her black gown.

"It will have to do," Narcissa said, though there was a small smile on her face as Bellatrix returned her wand. "Harrison, come with me. I'm thinking that a Greek braid will do you well tonight," she said, pulling Harrison's hair from its braid with one swift move. "Unless you've got some other preference?"

Harrison shook his head. "You're the expert," he said, following her up the stairs.

Once the two of them were upstairs in what Harrison assumed was Draco's room, Narcissa had Harrison sit down on a chair close to the door before she started braiding his hair. "There are a few unexpected guests that I feel the need to inform you about before they arrive," she said.

"Who are they?" Harrison asked curiously, though he knew better than to move his head.

"The Potters, unfortunately, managed to invite themselves to the party, which means that they'll be bringing their son with them. And knowing James Potter as I do, he's likely managed to persuade his son to invite the Weasley chit along with them," she said, her tone harsher than Harrison had ever heard it. "I will apologize ahead of time for any headache they may bring you, because they will inevitably try to cause at least one problem tonight and I have a feeling that they will try to include you in their lack of social courtesy," she said.

Harrison scowled but didn't say anything for a moment. "Is the Dark Lord coming?"

Narcissa nodded. "He's going to make an appearance, but I don't know how long he's planning on staying. You are a bit young to know this, but he is not the kind of man who appreciates these kinds of events," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"After the ball tonight, he's going to be spending the night at our Manor back in Russia," he said.

"That is an incredible honor," Narcissa said before falling silent. A few minutes later, she stepped back and tilted Harrison's head a bit. "Perfect," she said. "I would suggest you not let your hair grow much longer than elbow-length, otherwise it will be too difficult to work with on short notice."

Harrison hummed quietly but didn't say anything. He reached a hand up to touch the braid, sending a small, grateful smile to Narcissa, who accepted it with a slight nod.

"Why don't we go find Draco? I'm sure he's looking forward to having you here at the ball with him," she said.

At that, Harrison grinned and stood up. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but closed it almost right away. When Narcissa pinned an inquisitive look on him, he shook his head. "Never mind," he said.

Narcissa watched him for a moment but walked over to the door. "I'm sure Draco is listening on the other side of the door, along with my ever courteous sister," she said before opening the door. Just as she'd predicted, both Draco and Bellatrix were on the other side of the door. Draco managed to look relatively nonchalant, choosing to inspect his nails for dirt and lean against the table against the hall, while Bellatrix didn't even bother to try to hide the fact that she'd been eavesdropping. "Really, Bella? You aren't even going to pretend to be coy?"

"You're not going to buy it either way, so why bother?" she asked with a smirk. "If it's any consolation to you, Lucius expressed no interest whatsoever in your conversation with my nephew," she said before turning her attention onto Harrison. "Much better," she said.

"Mother?" Draco asked. "Can Harrison and I stay up here until the guests start coming?" he asked.

Narcissa nodded. "That would be best. Your father and I have some things that we need to discuss with Bellatrix before she and Harrison go back to Russia," she said.

Draco smirked and took hold of Harrison's hand, pulling him back into his room. Once the two of them were inside, he shut the door and then pulled Harrison into another room, which was adjoined to his room by a false-mirror.

"This is new," Harrison said, looking around the room as they stepped through the mirror.

The room was decorated in pale green and brown, and the far wall was completely windowed. There was a large plush sofa near the window, and a fireplace opposite the sofa. There was also a desk in the room, and bookshelves filled almost to bursting.

"It was my birthday gift from my mother," Draco said, pulling Harrison over to the couch and sitting down.

As Harrison sat down, he felt himself sink into the seat and grinned at the sensation. He stayed silent, though, knowing that Draco would be asking him his questions in less than a minute. He hadn't yet grown into the patience that both older Malfoys possessed in spades, though Harry supposed it would come with time and maturity.

"There are Privacy Wards laced into the walls and floors, so no one can eavesdrop. And you've got my word that I'm not going to repeat anything that's said in this room unless you give me express permission," Draco said, turning to Harrison.

"That's nice of you," Harrison said, frowning slightly. "But what is it that you want?"

"Harrison, we've been friends since before we could walk. You used to be able to tell me anything, and I don't like that the Zabini git changed that," he said. "So I want to know what makes him so special."

Harrison was silent for a long moment.

When he didn't say anything, Draco's face tinged pink. "I didn't mean to offend you," he said quietly.

"You didn't," Harrison said quickly, offering his friend a small smile. "I'm just trying to figure out how to tell you what you need to know without breaking promises of my own," he said before lapsing back into silence for a moment. After almost two full minutes of silence, Harrison shifted, pulling Draco's full attention to him. "This isn't something that can leave the room, and you can't tell anyone else that you know this, but vampires have been interfering with human bloodlines for years. They've engineered specific bloodlines to create the perfect feeding source, but the competition in their world led to the extermination of most of those bloodlines."

"And your family is one of the last?" Draco asked, his tone gentler than usual.

Harrison nodded. "From the research I've done, our family is the only one left, and we used to belong to one of the oldest and most powerful vampires. Blaise's mother knew that my father had the bloodline, and she's been after him since they were in Hogwarts together. Blaise knows that I'm part of the bloodline as well, and he's been after me for an exclusive vow," Harrison said. He lifted his hand to run through his hair, but at the last minute remembered that his hair was braided and dropped his hand back to his lap. Unknowingly, he started chewing on his bottom lip. "I was curious about my family and Blaise had answers, so I focused on learning as much from him as I could," he added.

"Then what happened?"

"He wrote me a letter telling me that he missed the sound of my heartbeat and the smell of my blood," Harrison said quietly.

Draco's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth, hissing quietly. "I'll kill him."

"No, Draco," Harrison said, not sure if he wanted to share this next bit of information.

"He's treating you like a dairy cow!" Draco said loudly, gesturing wildly as he spoke. "You can't let him do this to you! _I_ won't let him do this to you!"

"I'm not," Harrison said coldly. "And you're not going to touch him."

Draco scowled, clenching his hands into fists. "And why not, exactly?" he asked, his voice going eerily calm.

Harrison sighed heavily. "Because his mother knows who's after my father, and she's working on finding out where he is so that he can be brought back home and healed. He was wounded before he went missing," he said. "So you're not going to lay so much as a glare in either Zabini's direction. Not tonight, and not when we're back at Hogwarts. I want Papa back more than I care about what Blaise wants me to be. We're still only eleven years old and I'm not going to let one boy dictate the path of the rest of my life," he said.

Draco was silent for a long moment before nodding resolutely. "You're not going anywhere near either of those leeches tonight," he said, and he was clearly surprised by the smile that statement got. "What?"

"I was actually going to ask that you keep me away from them, and away from the Potters," he said.

At that, Draco scoffed. "As if I was really going to let that Gryffindork anywhere near you," he said.

A soft chime sounded through the room, interrupting their conversation.

Draco stood up and walked over to the door, sticking his head through the mirror, which seemed to act much the way a Floo fireplace did. He had a quick conversation with someone on the other side of the door before stepping through to the other side. He wasn't gone much longer than a few seconds, and this time he was accompanied by Pansy, Greg, and Vincent.

Harrison smiled and waved at the group as they all made themselves comfortable on the couch around him.

"Harrison, your hair looks amazing," Pansy said as she sat next to him. She poked gently at his braid and smiled.

He nodded. "Draco's mum did this," he said, knowing almost right away that she was trying to comfort him without being too obvious about it. "How have you been?"

"I should really be the one asking you that question, shouldn't I?" she asked.

"What's going on?" Vincent asked.

Draco cleared his throat loudly, pulling everyone's attention back to him. "Harrison is feeling a bit under the weather tonight because his aunt has decided to spend all her free time with him, and she's a madwoman. Crabbe, Goyle, your job tonight is to make sure that no one bothers either of us. Do it well and I'll have some of the Malfoy treacle tarts sent home with you at the end of the evening," he said.

"And what about me?" Pansy asked.

Draco looked over at her, a playful smirk on his face. "You can handle yourself just fine without help, and we all know it," he said. At a rude gesture from her, he laughed. "Crabbe, make sure that no one irritates Pansy too much."

Both larger boys nodded, grunting their understanding.

Another chime sounded, and Draco stood up. "Let's go," he said, and everyone followed suit.

...

About two hours into the ball, Harrison found himself quickly growing bored. He'd spent much of the evening with Draco and Pansy, surrounded by the intimidating forms of Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom seemed content just to watch everything that was happening. Only a few minutes prior, Pansy and Draco had decided to start playing a game while watching specific people in the ball. Whatever it was, Harrison hadn't found it at all entertaining and had instead decided to look around for his aunt.

She was relatively easy to spot, dancing with Lucius and obviously flirting with him. When she noticed that Harrison was watching her with an oddly hopeful look on his face, though, she separated from Lucius and headed over to meet him.

"Auntie," Harrison said once she was within arm's reach.

"Harrison, my love, what has you so desperate for my attention?" she asked. When Harrison opened his mouth to say something, though, she pulled him onto the dance floor and the two of them quickly started off in a waltz around the room. "Now, my love," she said, in almost flawless French. "What troubles you?"

"I don't see the point in staying here," Harrison said, staying in French as they danced around the ballroom.

She smiled at him. "I could start a fight with a married woman if that would keep you entertained. There's nothing quite like inventing an affair to create some scandal at one of these things," she said.

"Don't even think about it," Narcissa hissed as she and Lucius started dancing next to them.

Lucius ignored the conversation between the two sisters, choosing instead to look down at Harrison. "Your godfather should be along shortly," he said in perfect French. "And both Zabinis have been asking after you. They are starting to take offense to being deliberately ignored," he said.

Harrison nodded, silently absorbing the information. "Thank you," he said quietly before being pulled off to the other side of the dance floor. "Where are you taking me?" he asked, looking up at his aunt.

She grinned down at him. "I'm keeping you away from your Italians, my love. Well, that, and -"

"Could you spare a dance for your godfather?" a man asked, looking only at Harrison, and Bella stepped aside. She pulled an attractive Scottish man from the sidelines and pulled him into a waltz. The man looked down at Harrison, who only hesitated for a moment before allowing the older man to lead him into the dance.

"Who are you?" Harrison asked.

"Rhys Bevan," the man said with a gentle smile. He was about the same height as Antonin, with shoulder length black hair pulled back into a low ponytail and dark brown, almost black eyes. His robes were a dark green silk material that were lined with silver silk. "I'm spending a few nights with in your family's Manor until your father comes back," he said quietly.

Harrison's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded and allowed the man to lead him around the dance floor. After a full dance in silence, he hesitated for a moment before asking his question. "Have you heard anything about Papa?" he asked.

The disguised Dark Lord looked around the room at the guests, looking like he was looking for someone. When he found whatever it was that he was looking for, he turned his focus back to Harrison. "I have good news for you, but it's all going to wait until we have the time and privacy to catch up," he said.

Harrison nodded again and the two of them continued dancing until the song ended.

"I look forward to speaking with you later this evening, Harrison," Rhys said. He pressed a kiss to Harrison's forehead before disappearing to speak with whoever he'd been looking for earlier.

"Yes, sir," Harrison said. He started making his way back to Draco when he found Blaise standing in front of him, an angry look on his face.

"Care for a dance, Harrison?" Blaise asked coldly. Without waiting for Harrison's response, Blaise pulled him into a dance and they started off just as the music began with another song. "You've been ignoring me."

Harrison glared at Blaise, but knew from the strength of the other boy's grip that he wouldn't be able to escape the hold. He'd have to focus on handling this verbally. "I've had other things on my mind," he said, his tone just as glacial as Blaise's. "Mostly to do with the fact that one of your relatives kidnapped my father and might have bled him dry," he hissed under his breath. He wasn't worried about going unheard, and the narrowing of Blaise's eyes confirmed that the other boy heard what he'd said.

"None of my friends would have done that," he snapped.

"Yes, well, I don't really know all that much about your family," Harrison said. "You've been doing your best to keep me mostly in the dark about your extended family," he added. "And for as different as our brains are, you should know better than to tell me you missed my blood. I thought we were friends."

"We are, aren't we?" Blaise asked. There was a brief flash of anger in his eyes before he frowned at Harrison. "You're just being ridiculous."

Harrison scowled. "You and I have been friendly long enough for you to know that you fucked up," he said, jerking his arms out of Blaise's hold. "And you need to realize that your mistakes are made much worse while my father is off on his vacation," he snapped, stalking off the dance floor and heading back to Draco and Pansy.

Crabbe met him halfway, and neither of them said anything as they headed back to the couch that Draco had claimed for him and his group of friends at the beginning of the ball.

"Are you alright?" Pansy asked, pulling Harrison into a hug. "We saw you arguing with the great twat himself."

Harrison shrugged but didn't say anything. He looked over at Crabbe. "Thanks," he said. The larger boy nodded, grunting at him before walking back over to sit next to Goyle. He looked over at Pansy, who was watching him with an odd look on her face. "What?" he asked.

"I want to dance."

"You're technically engaged to Draco," Harrison said with a smirk in the blond's direction. "Go dance with him."

Draco scowled. "I'm busy waiting to see if Theo will show up," he said. "He wrote and said he might be back from China in time to visit. Besides, Harrison is a much better dancer than I am anyway. Go dancing with him," he said, waving dismissively at the two of them.

Pansy looked over at Harrison, a pleading look on her face.

Harrison hesitated for a moment but shrugged. "I suppose a few dances aren't going to kill me," he said.

Pansy laughed. "That's the spirit," she said, pulling him out to the dance floor and pointedly ignoring the glare that Blaise sent them in response. "Try not to trod all over my feet, would you?" she asked as they kept dancing.

...

Hours later, close to one thirty in the morning, Bellatrix came up to Harrison, who'd spent much of the past few hours dancing with Pansy and avoiding Blaise and JJ, both of whom had tried to talk to him again. After he'd tired of dancing and people watching, Draco had decided to start a game of chess. "Harrison, my love," she said, surprising him a bit.

"Yes?" he asked, biting back a yawn. When he noticed the look on her face, he looked over at Draco. "You win," he said with a slight scowl. He'd hoped to win at least one game of chess against the Malfoy heir, but Bellatrix looked a bit worried, which had Harrison getting nervous as well. "But the next game is mine."

Draco merely smirked at him. "Think whatever you like, but the day you win a game of chess against me is the day that I will dye my hair to match your family's crest," he said haughtily as Harrison stood up and straightened his dress robes. "I expect a detailed account of your visit to see the Northern lights," he said. "And the rest of your holiday," he said in a quieter voice.

Harrison nodded, immediately catching on to what Draco was asking of him. "Of course," he said before looking up at his aunt. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course. It's just late and we've got to get ready for our trip up North," she said with a well-practiced false smile. "It's time to go back home and get some sleep," she said. "You and your godfather will catch up tomorrow morning over breakfast. He's speaking with some old friends at the moment and he won't be able to make it to the Manor until late," she said.

Harrison nodded and followed her over to Narcissa and Lucius, who were speaking quietly in the corner, away from most of the guests.

"You two are leaving?" Narcissa asked.

Bellatrix nodded. "This little tyke here needs his beauty sleep," she said with a smirk in Harrison's direction.

"I'm not that tired," Harrison muttered darkly, glaring up at Bellatrix.

"Of course you're not," Lucius said. "But your aunt likes to grope married men when she's drunk." He pinned a glare on her when Bellatrix giggled quietly and tried to step closer to him. "When you get back to your Manor, you need to have one of your house elves make sure that she stays there."

Harrison nodded, glancing up at Bellatrix. When she winked at him, he bit back a sigh. "Yes, sir," he said. "Have you seen my godfather around here?" he asked.

"He's speaking with a few friends in another room," Lucius said quietly. "If complications develop further, he's going to be occupied for another few hours. Why?"

"Should I have the house elves make sure that she doesn't bother him?"

Lucius nodded. "I expect they'll already know to keep her in her room until she sobers up. If you need any help, Firecall me and I'll send my wife," he said with another glare at Bellatrix.

Harrison nodded. "Thank you, sir," he said. "Auntie?" he asked. "I have the Portkey back to the Manor. How drunk are you?"

"I'll have you know that I'm sober enough to know how to get myself back to the Manor without splinching myself," she said. When Lucius cleared his throat, she sighed. "And I'll come home without anyone on my arm. Though I hardly find it fair to deprive my adoring fans of the pleasure that I am more than willing to bestow upon them," she said with a wink in Lucius' direction.

Lucius' lips pursed in the traditional Malfoy scowl. "I have no objections to dousing you with acid, woman," he snapped. He saw someone on the other side of the ballroom and nodded slightly. Doing his best to ignore Bellatrix, he looked over at Harrison. "I expect we'll see you in the Manor again soon. Draco speaks about you a great deal," he said, his tone much gentler than when he'd addressed Bellatrix.

Harrison nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, smiling slightly.

That said, Lucius leaned close to Narcissa and said something. He pressed a kiss to her cheek before walking across the room.

Narcissa looked over at Bellatrix. "You're pushing your luck with him, and you know that," she said quietly.

"He's far too much fun," Bellatrix said airily. She looked down at Harrison. "I'm going to go back to the Manor in a few minutes. Try not to take too much longer here."

Harrison nodded but didn't say anything as he followed Narcissa out to the hallway. "Thank you for inviting us to your party," he said, reaching into his pocket for the old coin that served as a Portkey back to their Manor.

She sent him a soft smile. "It's always a pleasure to have you here, Harrison," she said before leaning down to be closer to eye level with him. With a soft murmur, the two of them were surrounded by the soft glow of a Privacy Charm. "If you need any help from either Lucius or myself, we're only a Firecall away," she said quietly. "And we're going to do everything we can to help you. If we find out any new information, we'll let you know right away," she added.

He didn't say anything, but he swallowed the sudden lump that had appeared in his throat as Narcissa spoke. He just nodded and offered Narcissa a small, fake smile. "Thank you," he said quietly.

She pressed a kiss to Harrison's forehead. "I'm going to come to your Manor tomorrow afternoon to make sure that you and Bellatrix are alright," she said.

"I'll let the house elves know," Harrison said before looking down at the coin in his hand. "Your absence is going to be noticed if you stay here long enough," he said, looking back up at her.

"Alright," Narcissa said, standing up and silently canceling the Privacy Charm. "If you need anything, you know how to let us know," she said.

"I know," he said. "Thank you."

She nodded and headed back into the ballroom.

Harrison flipped the coin over and rubbed the back of it, out of habit. He was about to activate it with the codeword when he felt someone watching him. He turned around, scowling when he saw JJ standing there, the elder male Potter standing behind him. "Wonderful," he muttered to himself, biting back a number of Dark curses that would have him the subject of suspicion. "Go away, Potter," he said, speaking loud enough for JJ to hear him.

"My parents wanted to meet you," JJ said, ignoring Harrison's statement and moving forward. "And they wanted to have a word with your father."

"That's not going to happen," Harrison said coldly. He glared at JJ when the boy tried to hug him and stepped back. "I'm not interested in talking to you ever again, and I have no intention of letting you or your parents get anywhere near my father."

"You came here alone?" James Potter asked. "Aren't you a bit young for that?"

"It's really none of your bloody business whether I'm too young for this or not," Harrison snapped, his hand making a fist around his coin. He pinned a glare on JJ. "Stay the hell away from me, and stop trying to push yourself into my family. It's not going to happen."

JJ scowled. "Well technically, since you're our family, we'd be pulling you into us," he said. "And is one conversation really too much to ask for?"

"Yes."

"Why?" JJ asked, though this time Harrison thought that the other boy was starting to understand his point.

"Because your father's reputation precedes himself. My upbringing is not the same as yours, and in that conversation, your father would hear one thing that he didn't like or didn't understand and he'd crucify my father for it. I'm not going to do anything to risk my father being railroaded into a criminal case for something that he didn't do," he said, his voice coming out in little more than a growl. He turned a glare onto James Potter. "Stay the hell away from me and my father," he said. Before either Potter could respond, Harrison whispered the one word to activate the Portkey: "Delacroix."

He reappeared seconds later in the main foyer of his home, and was immediately greeted by one of their three house elves.

"Mitsy, what's wrong?"

"The crazy lady is being coming back and she is being in her room," she said.

Harrison frowned. "Is she alone?"

Mitsy nodded.

"Good," Harrison said. "Don't let her leave her room until she's sober, but bring her whatever she wants."

"Yes, young Lord," she said.

"Is there anything else?"

"There is being an owl waiting for you in the Lord's office that is arriving just before the crazy lady," Mitsy said.

Harrison paused briefly before nodding slightly. "Can you bring a mild Pepper-Up Potion to the office?" he asked. "And let me know if anyone tries to come in or out of the Manor grounds."

Mitsy nodded again and disappeared with a loud pop.

Harrison quickly made his way to his father's office, hoping with everything he had that it was a letter from his father. Or from someone who knew where his father was. He hesitated before opening the door, and he couldn't help but to wonder if his father was going to be angry that he'd come into his office without permission.

Mitsy showed up before he could convince himself to open the door. She handed him the Pepper-Up Potion but didn't leave after that. "Is the young Lord being needing anything else?" she asked.

"Tell the vampire woman and her son that I don't want to see them or talk to them or have them anywhere near this Manor again," he said absently before drinking the entire vial of Pepper-Up Potion. The warming sensation that he felt coursing through his body made him smile a bit. He'd probably fall asleep for a few hours, but the potion would ensure that he'd wake up alert. "And if the Potters try and contact the Delacroix family, send them a letter filled with Bubotuber Pus. Or a letter that's hexed to shock them whenever they touch the paper. Or both. Both is good," he said with a cold grin.

"Yes, young Lord," she said before disappearing with another loud crack.

When she disappeared, Harrison gathered his wits about him and pushed the door to his father's office open.

The owl was sitting on the top of one of the bookshelves. It was one of the largest owls that Harrison had seen - bigger even than Draco's eagle owl. It was a grey owl with yellow eyes and an angry look in its eyes that had Harrison wonder if he was going to be able to get the letter without losing any blood. Fortunately, his question was answered when the owl shifted a bit and flapped its wings a few times before taking flight. Harrison watched as the owl flew over him to drop a letter on the desk in front of him and then it flew out of a window that he hadn't realized was open.

It took a few minutes before he was willing to touch the letter, and he did everything he could to make sure that it wasn't hexed at all before he opened it and read what it had to say.

_Little Dolohov,_

_My arrival at your family's Manor will be a few hours later than expected, as there have been a few new complications that have obstructed the otherwise simple conversations that I needed to have this evening. However, when I arrive, I look forward to our conversation. As I said when I spoke with you earlier, I have good news for you but you will have to wait until I get there to hear it._

_You are young yet, so I will not fault you if you would like to delay this conversation until tomorrow morning. I will leave the choice to you._

_Lord Voldemort_

After he'd read through the letter a few times, Harrison frowned. He walked over to the couch that his father had set up along the wall next to the door and dropped onto it. The hours he'd spent dancing at the ball had left him exhausted, but he had no intention of going off to bed and delaying the news that the Dark Lord was bringing any longer than absolutely necessary. "Mitsy," he called quietly.

The house elf appeared right away. "Is young Lord being needing anything?"

"Wake me up when anyone tries to gain entrance here," Harrison said, stretching out on the couch and yawning.

Mitsy nodded. "Yes, young Lord," she said. Without being asked, she summoned a pillow and a thick comforter for Harrison. "Would the young Lord be liking the fireplace to being tended to?" she asked.

Harrison nodded a bit, already halfway asleep. "Yes, please," he said around another yawn.

...

He woke up with a start when he heard someone moving around his father's office. He opened his eyes, looking around the office, and relaxed when he saw Mitsy fixing the fireplace. "Mitsy?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep as he slowly sat up and stretched. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, young Lord," she said. "Mitsy is being bringing breakfast for the young Lord," she said, pointing to a tray of food on the table in front of the couch.

"What?" Harrison asked. "How long have I been asleep? What time is it?"

"It is being five thirty in the morning," she said. "Mitsy is having fixed the young Lord's favorite. Chocolate croissants and fresh strawberries with whipped cream. There is being strawberry milk as well."

"Thanks," Harrison said absently. He tugged on his hair, frowning when he realized that it was still in it's braid from the night before.

The house elf noticed the state of his hair and made a disappointed sound in the back of her throat. She hopped onto the couch next to him and started undoing Harrison's hair as he ate breakfast. "The young Lord shouldn't be letting his hair get so tangled," she said.

"It was an accident," Harrison said around a mouthful of strawberry. "Did any guests arrive while I was sleeping? And did Bella give you any trouble?" he asked, just as Mitsy untangled his hair and pulled it back into a low ponytail.

Mitsy shook her head. "The crazy lady spent the entire time in her room, sleeping. She's still asleep now," she said. "And no guests came into the Manor. The lady vampire tried to come inside and she was being angry when Mitsy is not being letting her into the Manor. She is being telling me to tell you that you owing her an explanation for insulting her family," she said.

Harrison nodded, choosing to just eat his breakfast as she disappeared.

He'd just eaten all his food when Mitsy reappeared in front of him. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"There is being a guest coming into the sitting room downstairs," she said. "He is being the Dark Lord," she added quickly, looking more than slightly nervous.

"I'll go see him," Harrison said, standing up and smoothing out his robes as best he could. He didn't wait for Mitsy's response and practically ran downstairs.

The Dark Lord was standing in the sitting room, looking just as regal as usual, if a bit tired. He wasn't wearing the disguise from the ball, and Harrison paused for a moment to gather himself before stepping into the room.

"You weren't kept waiting long, were you, sir?" he asked, doing his best not to look too nervous.

"Not at all," the man said. "You look like you didn't get much sleep."

"A few hours, sir. Can I get you anything?" Harrison asked.

"No, I'm fine," the Dark Lord said, looking over at Harrison and pinning him in place with his red eyes.

Harrison nodded. He didn't say anything else, feeling oddly like he was being watched by a hungry predator.

"At the ball last night, I told you that I had good news," he said.

"Yes, sir," Harrison said hesitantly.

The Dark Lord smirked and held out his hand to Harrison. "Come with me."

"Why?" Harrison asked, momentarily forgetting who he was speaking to. When he remembered, he flushed bright red and looked at his feet. "Sorry, sir," he said quietly.

The older man chuckled quietly. "You are young, and you'll make some mistakes. Now, I've got something to show you in my Manor," he said. "I will return you to the safety of your Manor within a few hours, and I will answer a few of the questions that you're going to ask when you see what I'm going to show you."

Harrison waited only a second before reaching out and taking the proffered hand.

The Dark Lord smirked down at Harrison, and before the younger boy had the chance to wonder if this was really a good idea, he Apparated the two of them away.

They reappeared seconds later in a dimly lit hallway.

Harrison looked around the hall as the Dark Lord led him toward a door at the far end, but he didn't let go of the man's hand.

There were a few paintings on the walls, all of them empty landscapes, and at the opposite end of the hallway was a large window. Overall, it gave off an almost comfortable air, and Harrison found it a bit hard to believe that this was really the Dark Lord's house.

When they reached the door, the Dark Lord stopped and looked down at Harrison, making sure that he had the boy's full attention. "Do not move from my side, and stay silent. Do not make any sudden movements, and keep your distance until I let you know that it is safe to approach," he said.

"Is it dangerous?" Harrison asked with a frown.

"Not to you," the man said with a slight smile. "Do you understand?"

Harrison nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good." That said, the Dark Lord straightened and opened the door. He took a few steps into the room, Harrison not moving from his side.

The room wasn't lit, but Harrison could make out a silhouette on a bed. He heard a quiet hissing and looked up at the Dark Lord, frowning slightly when he realized that he was the one hissing. Something in the room started moving, and Harrison edged closer to the Dark Lord, gripping the older man's hand as tightly as he could. As the man continued hissing, the lights in the room slowly lit up, though it didn't get too bright.

Harrison's attention was immediately focused on the man on the bed. The man was bloody and beaten, and he looked like he was asleep. Still, Harrison had a hunch. He took half a step forward before remembering the Dark Lord's instructions and stepping back to stand next to him. When he heard the Dark Lord hiss something that sounded oddly like "Antonin," Harrison looked up at the man.

"Look at the man on the bed," the Dark Lord said without looking down at Harrison.

The man slowly sat up and rubbed at the side of his face. He winced a bit as his hand scraped over a gash on his cheek, but he looked up at Harrison a moment later and a bright smile came over his face.

All the air left Harrison's lungs in one fell swoop and he dropped his hold on the Dark Lord's hand. "Papa?" he asked quietly, taking a few steps forward before he felt a hand wrap around the back of his neck. He was hauled back to stand next to the Dark Lord, and the grip on his neck didn't loosen.

"Not yet," the man said coldly, glaring down at Harrison.

Harrison glared back at the man, an insult ready on his lips. It died, though, when Antonin opened his mouth to say something and instead vomited blood and collapsed onto the floor, his body trembling violently.


	13. Chapter 13

Y'all know the drill, pretend there's a disclaimer here.

It's been a while since the last update with this one, but I hit something of a block, and my school schedule got out of control for a little while. Fortunately, the semester's pretty much over, so I'll hopefully have more time and less stress (which should lead to more updates).

As always, enjoy! (and feedback is always greatly appreciated!)

Chapter 13

"What's wrong with him?" Harrison asked. He was unable to tear his eyes away from the trembling form of his father, who was now being attended to by a house elf. "He's not dying, is he?" he asked as the man vomited blood again and collapsed into the stubby arms of the terrified house elf.

The Dark Lord smirked slightly. "Far from it, actually," he said, letting go of Harrison once he was sure that the boy wasn't going to approach his father, though he kept a close eye on him. "Antonin has always been much stronger than he looks. Follow me," he said, looking down at Harrison. "There's no need for you to watch this. He is merely purging all of the harmful substances out of his body."

"So it looks worse than it is?" Harrison asked, not moving from his spot.

"Much worse, I assure you." The older man was silent for a moment. "We'll discuss this further in my study." He watched Harry for another moment before making a slight motion for the boy to follow him.

Harrison cast one more look at his father, whose head was being cradled by the house elf, before hurrying to follow the Dark Lord through the halls.

Once they were both seated rather comfortably in the man's study - Harrison in one of the stiff armchairs in front of the man's desk and the Dark Lord in the chair behind his desk - the two of them watched each other for a moment before either of them said anything.

"Is he really going to be alright?"

"He should be, yes. I've had my best Healer look at him, and she believes he's going to fully recover within a week," he said. "He has made remarkable recoveries since he was first returned to my custody," he added.

Harrison frowned. "How's that?" he asked.

"Antonin no longer has a fever, and he's stopped bleeding out of his eyes and a few other, less pleasant, orifices. He's not having any more seizures, either," the Dark Lord said. "His body is purging out whatever toxins he's ingested, but it will take time before he regains the health that he had before he went missing," he said.

"You're going to make sure that he's healthy, though, right?"

The older man nodded. "He has served me well, Harrison, and I have no intention of neglecting a man who has been devoted to me since before he went through puberty," he said. "You have my word that I will do everything I can to repair your father."

Harrison nodded, not saying anything. He wasn't sure how to feel at the moment - the comment about his father going through puberty had been somewhat disturbing, and it had momentarily distracted him. Finally, after a few minutes of silence and looking around the study, he looked back over at the Dark Lord. "Do you know what happened to him?" he asked.

Another, shorter silence settled between them before the Dark Lord said anything. "A few werewolves found him half dead in their territory. Had they not recognized my mark on his arm, they would have killed him on the spot for potentially endangering their pups. Instead, they took him to their Alpha and the Alpha then saw fit to send Antonin back to me," the Dark Lord said once he was sure that Harrison was calm enough to actually absorb what he was being told. It wasn't an easy thing to talk about, after all, and the boy was still just that - an eleven year old boy. "Your father is quite fortunate that he has been in my service as long as he has," he added, sounding almost as though he hadn't meant to admit as much aloud.

"How come?" Harrison asked hesitantly. He kept looking over his shoulder with an almost hopeful expression on his face, looking toward the door as though he were expecting his father to walk into the room, completely healthy.

"He accompanied me when I first established a treaty with Greyback's pack," he said. "And one of the wolves who found him remembered him. She went to her Alpha and he brought your father back here," he said.

Harrison frowned slightly, not saying anything for a moment. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat quietly and looked up at the Dark Lord. "What happened to him?"

"I don't know the details yet, but it appears the creature that killed Kostova wanted something from your father, and he did not give it to them," he said. "This was their punishment for his disobedience."

"Was it a vampire that went after him?" Harrison asked.

The Dark Lord nodded. "I believe so, though I haven't been able to confirm that yet," he said quietly. "Until I know why your father was attacked, I am keeping you both in my Manor."

Harrison hesitated. "Bellatrix is still at home, and Lady Malfoy said she was going to come by today to check on us," he said.

"And no doubt as soon as you set foot back in your Manor, the Zabinis will be on you as well, and I do not want you to make yourself that vulnerable to them," he said. "Part of your bloodline that has them so keen on your blood is the complacency that has been bred into you. The Zabini boy may not be as intelligent as his mother on this issue, but the fact remains that Serena knows how to manipulate people, especially when they are desperate, and she will use that to her advantage."

"But she's been looking for whoever hurt my father since she found out he was missing," Harrison said. "She's been helping me, sir," he added.

The Dark Lord frowned slightly. "She has been after his blood since he was still a student in Hogwarts, Harrison. Serena Zabini may have offered her assistance to you, but the two of you have vastly different goals in mind when it came to finding your father and exacting some kind of punishment on his assailants," he said.

Harrison sighed quietly and fell silent, looking down at his dress robes, which he was still wearing from the evening before. "I'm not going to be allowed to go back to Hogwarts, am I?" he asked.

"Not until I'm sure that you're safe," the Dark Lord said. "And I have every intention of making sure that you stay current with your studies," he added when Harrison looked up at him, an almost confused look on his face. "Does something displease you?" he asked.

"Could I go back home to change clothes, and maybe get some things for Papa?" Harrison asked hesitantly.

"I cannot allow you to be alone with him for another few days," the Dark Lord said. "Once he has stopped vomiting blood, I will consider allowing the two of you a conversation, but I will not risk you becoming contaminated with whatever's been done to him."

Harrison nodded. "I understand, sir," he said. "I just want to get him some things so that he won't be scared when he gets better. He doesn't like waking up in strange places without having any memory of how he got there in the first place," he said.

The Dark Lord watched him for a long moment before he leaned forward. "I will take you to your Manor, where you will gather your things quickly. We will return here within half an hour, and I expect complete obedience from you," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "If you disobey me at all, or if you take too long, I will bring you back here and I will keep you locked alone in a room until I feel that you've learned the importance of following my orders. Do you understand?" he asked.

Harrison nodded, having silently gone pale at the look on the Dark Lord's face. "Yes, sir," he said quietly.

Without saying anything else, the man stood up, motioning for Harrison to follow him. As they left the office, heading down the hall and into a sitting room, the Dark Lord started speaking. "You will stay within arm's reach of me for the entire time that we are in your Manor, and you are not to make any unnecessary noises," he said, looking down at Harrison as the younger man jogged slightly to catch up with his larger strides.

"Is something going to be hunting us, then?" Harrison asked with a confused frown.

The Dark Lord smirked. "No, not the both of us," he said, and Harrison paled slightly. "As I told you before, Serena Zabini knows how to manipulate people, and she's been after your father longer than you have been alive. She will not hesitate to use you in an attempt to get exclusive access to your father," he said.

"But you won't let that happen, right?"

"Of course not," the man said, looking almost offended. "Your father belongs to me and I have never been particularly good at sharing, especially with the likes of Serena Zabini and her kind."

Harrison bit back a smirk, knowing instinctively that it would not be a good idea to insinuate that the Dark Lord was somehow jealous of Serena. Instead, he hurried to follow the man into the sitting room and watched as he spoke quietly with a house elf.

"Do not allow anyone or anything into my Manor until my return, and if the wards are broken, keep Antonin isolated and safe," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

The house elf nodded before silently disappearing.

Harrison took a few steps into the sitting room, feeling suddenly uncomfortable when the man's red eyes were pinning him in place. He fell abruptly silent but found himself unable to look away from the gaze as he scoured his mind for what he could have possibly done wrong - otherwise why else would the Dark Lord be staring at him with that detachedly amused look on his face? After a few minutes, he couldn't think of anything he'd done that was offensive to the man, though with the mask of mild boredom that he wore almost all the time, it was truly difficult to tell. Drawing from the stores of his courage, Harrison straightened himself a bit. "Have I done something wrong, sir?" he asked, hoping the tremor in his voice hadn't been as obvious as he feared it was.

That reaction only seemed to amuse the Dark Lord further. "You have done absolutely nothing wrong, Harrison," he said. There were hints of a slight smirk on the man's face as he took a few steps toward Harrison. "In fact, your behavior has taken me a bit by surprise."

"How do you mean, sir?" Harrison asked. He clenched his fists tightly, reminding himself that he could not run away from the Dark Lord without appearing a coward.

"Despite your fear, which smells rather exquisite, you have acted with a maturity far beyond your eleven years. There are grown men in my ranks who are not able to remain so composed and in control of their magic when they are faced with similarly stressful situations. Yours, though, is uniquely dangerous," he said, still approaching Harrison. "And yet you stand before me almost completely composed, ignoring your fear and behaving like you've almost expected something similar to have happened."

Harrison shrugged. "I haven't really expected anything, sir. But after learning about the history behind my blood and why I would be hunted, I applied that knowledge to the fact that my father has been dealing with the same information and the same threats since he found out," he said. "I know he's going to be alright, so I'm less worried now. But the knowledge that I possess had me wondering about all the possibilities surrounding my death." He took a deep, not entirely calming breath before continuing. "And that my reaction to a worst case scenario differs so much from your soldiers speaks more to their incompetence than any fault of my own," he added, evenly meeting the man's gaze as the man stopped just arm's length away from him. "Sir."

There was a brief, almost tense silence between them before the Dark Lord smirked. "I daresay you've earned a bit of my respect, Harrison. Not even my most devoted have been able to speak to me in such a manner," he said. "And I assure you, I was not pointing out any sort of flaw in your person," he said in a quieter voice before he took hold of Harrison's chin. His eyes flashed completely black at the moment of contact, and Harrison did his best to bite back a surprised gasp at the sight, though he made no attempt to escape the older man's hold. The Dark Lord seemed to know what had happened to cause such a reaction, as his smirk only took on a more satisfied look. "Come," he said, dropping Harrison's hand and holding his hand out to the boy. "I do not have much time to spare on errands such as this."

Harrison flushed slightly but took the man's hand. The Dark Lord immediately tightened his hold on Harrison's hand to an almost painful degree and the two of them disappeared.

They reappeared seconds later in the center of Antonin's office.

Nothing seemed to have changed since Harrison left earlier that day, which he took to be a good thing as he looked around. One thing that did take him by surprise was the sight of Narcissa Malfoy sitting on the couch that he'd only relatively recently vacated.

Harrison smiled at Narcissa as he reclaimed his hand from the Dark Lord. He didn't take more than a half step away from the man, though, remembering the older man's threat to lock him alone in a room should he disappear. "Hello Lady Malfoy," he said quietly.

She nodded in response but seemed to be at a loss for words at the moment. Her blue eyes dated almost suspiciously between Harrison and the Dark Lord before she visibly gathered herself and stood. "My Lord, it is a pleasure to see you here," she said with a curtsy. "I had not expected you to be accompanying Harrison."

"I find myself in possession of something that belongs to him," the man said. He glanced down at Harrison, who was watching him with an almost expectant look on his face.

"Can I talk to her in private, sir?" Harrison asked. "I won't leave the room, I promise."

The Dark Lord watched him for a moment before pointing to the chair behind Antonin's desk. "Sit," he said. "I will give you five minutes alone while I check for any threats," he said. He waited until Harrison sat down and made himself comfortable in the chair before he left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Narcissa walked up to Harrison and started checking to see if he was injured. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Harrison nodded. "I'm fine, I promise," he said. "He's going to protect me, I think," he said.

"Protect you how?"

"He's going to make sure that some of the people who are after father and me aren't able to catch us," he said with a slight smile. "And I'm going to stay in his Manor with him for now."

"Do you know how long?"

Harrison shook his head. "He found Papa, but he's really sick right now, so we're staying until Papa is all better and until the Dark Lord thinks it safe for us to come back here to stay," he said. He fell silent for a long moment, looking down at his hands. "I think he's going to keep us safe from the monsters who have been hunting us," he said, his voice barely audible. "If he really means it, that he's going to keep us safe, do you think he's going to keep us safe without asking for our blood as payment?" he asked, looking up at Narcissa with a look of hope on his face that made him seem much younger than his eleven years.

Narcissa was silent for a moment, taken completely by surprise at the question. Finally, after she'd regained a bit of her composure, she cupped Harrison's face between her hands. "Harrison, darling, why would you expect to bleed as payment for your protection?" she asked.

"We have valuable blood, me and Papa," Harrison said dully. "I suppose it would be the only thing I can offer to repay him for giving us shelter," he said.

"You owe me nothing, child," the Dark Lord said as he walked back into Antonin's office. "You will be safe for now." He glanced over at Narcissa. "Your sister is awake and has recovered enough to be taken back to your Manor. Keep her there, under lock and key, until I inform you otherwise," he said, wiping a red mark that looked suspiciously like the shade of lipstick Bellatrix had worn the night before off of his neck. "And make sure that she is not allowed anywhere near the rest of Lucius' liquor stores."

For a moment, it seemed like Narcissa was going to laugh, but she just nodded and stood up. "If you need anything, Harrison, owl me directly," she said, sending an odd look in Harrison's direction. At his nod, she headed over to the fireplace. "I'll inform Lucius of the change, My Lord, and then I'll return for Bellatrix," she said before she Floo-ed back to Malfoy Manor.

Harrison looked up at the Dark Lord. "You didn't hurt her, did you?"

"No more than she deserved," he said. He seemed almost amused at the question. "I don't think we'll be interrupted, but Serena has the tendency to step out of the shadows. Come along," he said.

Harrison didn't say anything, choosing instead to silently follow the older man out of the office and through the halls.

It didn't take him long to pack his father's things, as Antonin had always stuck more with the simple things. A week's worth of clothing: black trousers, long-sleeved button downs - all of them in darker colors - and his favorite pair of dragonhide boots. Then came his father's journal, a set of formal robes, and the two only two pictures from Antonin's nightstand.

Harrison was particularly careful with the pictures, and he ignored the peculiar look the Dark Lord sent him as he cast a few extra protection charms to make sure that the pictures wouldn't be damaged on the strip, no matter how short it may be.

He packed a similar wardrobe for himself, though he included his schoolbooks as well.

All in all, it didn't take more than half an hour before everything was packed into two large duffle bags and resized to fit into the pocket of Harrison's trousers.

"Is there anything else?"

Harrison shook his head. "No, sir," he said.

"Excellent. I've got work that requires my attention back at my Manor," the Dark Lord said. He held out his hand for Harrison to take.

Harrison smiled apologetically at the older man as he took hold of his hand. "Papa set up the strongest wards he could to prevent Apparation anywhere else but his study," he said. "I don't know what'll happen if the wards are broken, but he always told me that it wouldn't be pleasant."

For a moment, it looked like the Dark Lord was doing his best to hold back a sigh. "Very well," he said after a moment. "Stay close."

They had almost made it back into Antonin's study when something reached out from the shadows and grabbed a chunk of Harrison's hair, jerking him back.

He yelped, his hands going to the back of his head. That was a bad move, as his captor took the chance to snatch his wands and bind them together with a murmured spell. Harrison's eyes widened and he tried to pull his hands free, but he found that he couldn't move them away from the back of his neck.

The Dark Lord stopped, his eyes going entirely black as he scoured the shadows. When he saw the creature that was holding Harrison, he bared frighteningly sharp fangs and growled. "Release him, Serena," he said in a glacial tone of voice.

"I'd really rather not. His father is such a stubborn man, and I look forward to having him again, but until then, the son will do quite nicely," she purred, stepping out of the shadows and tightening her hold on Harrison.

He whined at the painful grip on his hands and started squirming in earnest to get free, but his captor hissed coldly.

"Stop squirming, little prince. It would be a shame for me to accidentally snap your neck," Serena said. "It is almost a pleasure to see you again, Dark Lord," she said, seeming to be completely unaware of the glare being leveled on her.

"I will not tell you a second time, Serena," the Dark Lord snapped. He said something in a guttural language that Harrison didn't understand, but Serena did.

"I found him first, and I will not share him with the likes of you_, demon_," she hissed, once again tightening her hold on Harrison. For a moment she seemed almost frightened, though she hit it well.

The Dark Lord smirked wickedly and stepped forward. With a few movements too swift for Harrison to see as less than a blur, he broke Serena's arms, ignoring her pained shrieks, and pulled Harrison into his embrace. "You mistake me for the type to abide by the claiming traditions of your kind," he said, turning Harrison almost gently. As he did so, he silently released the bindings restraining the boy's hands. "He has been mine since he was no more than an infant and he was abandoned," he said. "He has never been free for you or your spawn to claim, and as he is not unattached, he will never be able to promise anyone anything," he said coldly.

Serena stiffened, stopping in the middle of murmuring her Healing spell, and glaring at the man. "Prove it."

"With pleasure," the Dark Lord said. He reached a hand down to rest three fingers against Harrison's left collarbone. The younger man just did his best not to squirm when cool fingers and the tips of very sharp claws pressed against his skin. As soon as he made contact, he hissed out something that sounded vaguely like "_Shayistaya shah_."

Harrison didn't feel anything change as the man pulled his hand away, and nothing looked any different to him, but whatever happened seemed to prove whatever Serena had doubted.

She let out a frustrated scream. Her eyes brightened to glow visibly, and she gathered a globe of raw magic in her hand.

The Dark Lord smirked. "Try it, Serena. I look forward to taking the chance to rip the skin from your flesh, piece by piece," he said. "Before you die, though, I will be sure to allow you the privilege of watching your son suffer for your behavior before I deliver his soul to the devil," he added.

That seemed to resonate with Serena. She stopped gathering her magic and instead chose to glare at the Dark Lord again. "I claimed his father before you had the chance. He belongs to me."

"He pledged me his life and loyalty with a Blood Oath. Your claim on Antonin is as invalid as your claim on his son," he said.

"Wait," Harrison said quietly, pulling the attention of both Serena and the Dark Lord onto him. "Were you the one that almost killed my father?"

"I did no such thing," Serena purred, though the sudden smirk on her face told betrayed her lie.

"You're lying." Harrison pinned as vicious a glare as he was capable of on the woman, finding not a small amount of reassurance with the Dark Lord at his back. "And I know how to get rid of you without ever getting my hands dirty."

A brief glimmer of fear flickered through her eyes, though it was quickly smothered. "You aren't anywhere near as powerful as you think," she said.

Harrison said nothing for a moment, leaning back a bit into the Dark Lord's embrace. He smiled slightly when the older man rested a hand gently on the back of his neck. "I may not be as strong as my father yet, but I know how influential my blood can be in the right hands. I'm sure even just a few vials a year would be enough to convince one of your more intelligent cousins to make sure that the problem of you and your son is permanently solved," he said coldly. He glanced up at the Dark Lord. "That is, of course, only with my Lord's blessing," he added.

The man merely sent a knowing smirk at Serena. "It's certainly an offer to consider," he said. "Take your leave before I decide to help you out of this Manor."

"You're not welcome here ever again," Harrison said quickly. "Not you and not your son. I'm going to make sure that this is completely impenetrable before my father comes back home," he said.

She sneered at him. "You, little prince, are nowhere near as powerful as you think," she said, though it was becoming clear that she was getting a bit desperate. "I am not afraid of what you think yourself capable of."

"You're lying again," Harrison said, smirking slightly as the hand on the back of his neck gave a reassuring squeeze. "Just like you were lying when you gave me your word that you didn't touch my father."

At that, Serena relaxed a bit, giving Harrison a smug smile. "I did not lie about that. I laid no hand or fang on your father. My son, however, is growing into his powers and he needs to be able to practice on captive prey before I send him out on the hunt," she said, her smile turning menacing as the look of betrayal and hatred dawned on Harrison's face. "Your father made himself an easy target for a few moments, so I took the chance to give my son the opportunity to taste aged perfection," she said.

Harrison opened his mouth to curse Serena, but the hand on the back of his neck tightened in a silent warning and he shut his mouth with a click. He glared at her, hoping her hair would spontaneously catch fire before she had the chance to escape.

"Leave, Serena. Now. Otherwise I will take a great deal of pleasure in teaching you why you do not use any of my disciples as your plaything," the Dark Lord said with a cruel smirk.

She sent a dirty look in his direction before disappearing just as quickly as she'd appeared.

"That was well handled, Harrison," the Dark Lord said, removing his hand from Harrison's neck.

"Thank you, sir," Harrison said. "Slinky?"

The House Elf appeared seconds later. "Is Young Master being alright?" she asked.

"Do you know where my book is? The one that I warded?"

"Slinky is going to be getting the book," she said, disappearing. She reappeared seconds later, handing the book to Harrison.

He nodded his thanks. "The vampire woman is no longer welcome here, but I wouldn't put it past her to come back here and try to ruin the Manor. If that happens, make sure you and the others are hidden away somewhere. You could probably find shelter with the Malfoy house elves if it gets too bad," he said.

Slinky nodded. "Is Young Master being in trouble?" she asked, looking between Harrison and the Dark Lord. "Slinky is being able to protect the Young Master if he is being in trouble."

"I know," Harrison said with a small smile. "Papa and I are going to be staying with the Dark Lord for now, but we'll be back." He glanced over his shoulder at the older man, who was watching his every move. "Would it be possible for us to set up wards to make sure that Serena and Blaise can't come inside the Manor?" he asked.

"Not at the moment," the Dark Lord said. "Once your father is healthier, I'll consider it. We do need to get back to my Manor."

Harrison nodded. "Papa and I will be back, Slinky," he said.

"If Young Master is needing anything, he is calling for Slinky and Topsy," she said, pinning him with an almost expectant look.

Harrison smiled slightly. "I will, thank you," he said. Having said that, he followed the Dark Lord through the halls and back into Antonin's office. The door had barely shut when a hand once again wrapped itself around the back of his neck and the two of them Apparated back to the Dark Lord's Manor. This time, though, rather than finding himself in the sitting room, Harrison realized that the older man had brought them both back to his study. "Thank you, sir," he said.

The Dark Lord nodded. "Since you're going to stay here, I suppose it would only be proper for you to be given something of a tour, unless you've got more questions to ask me."

"I thought you had work to do," Harrison said, flushing slightly when the man correctly guessed that he still had questions that he wanted answered.

The older man smirked, and only then did Harrison realize that the Dark Lord's eyes were still completely black. "I will be unable to focus properly until I have recovered."

"Are you ill?"

"Not in the traditional sense, I suppose. Take your bags out of your pockets and resize them," he said with a slight smirk. "Tango," he said once Harrison had done as told.

A house elf appeared in front of him.

"Take these bags up to the suite next to mine and unpack only that which belongs to Harrison. His father's things will be unpacked once he is healthy enough to make use of them," he said.

Without saying anything, the house elf bowed to the Dark Lord and took the bags before disappearing.

Once that was done, the Dark Lord walked over to the two chairs in front of his desk and took a seat in one of them. He looked expectantly at Harrison, who quickly made his way over to the other chair. "Before you start asking your questions, I want an Oath from you."

"What kind of Oath?"

"An Oath of Silence. I will strengthen it with my own warding," he said. "You're going to ask the sort of questions that requires a heightened level of insurance, and I have no intention of certain knowledge reaching the general public."

Harrison scowled. "I won't tell anyone what you tell me."

The Dark Lord smirked. "I'm inclined to believe you, but there are ways that wizards have to coerce information from someone without their knowledge," he said.

Straightening a bit, Harrison held out his right hand, palm side up. "I solemnly swear to keep my silence about anything discussed in this room, either now or in the future. Should anyone try and invade my mind for the information, I grant my magic the permission to bury the information in my mind so that no one can extract it," he said. He paused for a moment as the Dark Lord took his hand and started tracing the tips of very sharp claws along the lines in his palm. "I will not attempt to share this information with anyone else, and I will not make a record of what I've learned," he said.

"So mote it be," the Dark Lord said quietly. Without any warning, he slashed an odd, almost runic shape into the younger man's palm, smirking when Harrison whined in pain and tried to pull his hand back. He didn't let go of his hand until the wound sealed itself, leaving only a small, barely visible scar.

Harrison took his hand back, poking experimentally at the scar and frowning when it didn't hurt. It took only a few more seconds before he looked back up at the Dark Lord, who was watching him with his still-blackened eyes. "Are you really a demon?" he asked.

The Dark Lord smirked. "Of sorts."

"What are you, then?"

"I believe the official term is a cambion," he said.

"What's a cambion?"

"The offspring of a demon and a human."

Harrison's eyes widened slightly. Rather than trying to run from the older man as part of his instincts urged him to do, though, he found himself leaning closer to the man. "Is that why your eyes are black?" he asked.

The Dark Lord nodded.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you are the type to dig at something until you know everything you can about a mystery," he said. "And I will not tolerate you staying here while you're doing whatever you can to learn my secrets."

"Am I still allowed to look?"

The Dark Lord was silent for a moment. "I suppose," he said. "You will keep whatever you learn to yourself."

"Can I ask you questions if I'm not sure about something?" Harrison asked.

He nodded once. "Only when it is just you and I," he said. "If there are others present, you keep anything you've learned to yourself, understood?"

Harrison nodded.

"Do you have any other questions?"

"Why was Serena afraid of you?"

"There is a hierarchy, of sorts," he said. "The type of demon that sired me has been around long before the vampires were an unholy glimmer in the eye of their creators. Most of the vampires have learned long ago to respect that hierarchy, though there are some, like Serena, who think themselves able to intimidate the demons," he said. "Serena and her spawn are in desperate need of a reminder of the way things are, though."

At that muttered statement, Harrison couldn't stop the cold smile from coming over his face. "Are you going to kill them?"

The Dark Lord chuckled. "Are you truly so willing to see the two of them eliminated?" he asked.

"Serena both deserve a slow and painful death, and if you don't deliver it, my father will when he's better," Harrison said.

"And her son?"

"If you don't kill him, then I'm going to make sure that he regrets the day he ever thought it would be a good idea to lay a hand on my father," Harrison growled. He was unaware that his eyes had changed again, into the feline slits.

The Dark Lord noticed the change, though, and he smiled slightly. Without giving Harrison the chance to pull away, he took hold of the younger man's chin, forcing him to meet the black eyes. "In that case, I will reserve their deaths for you and your father, but I am looking forward to taking a pound of flesh from the woman," he said. "Plan your attacks carefully, and I will offer my assistance."

"Why are you being so nice about all this?" Harrison asked, his eyes narrowing at the man. He thought back to the conversation with Serena and scowled. "Is this because you've got some kind of claim on me?"

"My claim is merely proof that you belong to me, Harrison. It is incidental in this case."

"Then why?"

The older man was silent for a long moment, his thumb rubbing lightly along Harrison's jaw as he thought about his reasons. "Because you and your father are both under my welfare. I am responsible for ensuring your health and safety, and I have no intention of neglecting my duties when it comes to caring for one of my most faithful disciples and his son," he said. "And I find myself rather curious as to what your plans will entail," he added, almost reluctantly releasing Harrison from his hold.

Harrison smiled weakly up at the man.

They sat in the comfortable silence for close to five minutes before Harrison yawned.

"You are tired?"

"A little bit, sir," Harrison admitted.

The Dark Lord stood suddenly. "I'll bring you to your rooms," he said. "Once you're more rested, I'll see that you become more acquainted with my Manor," he said.

Harrison nodded. He stood up as well, though he stumbled a few steps before righting himself. "Thank you."

The older man just hummed quietly, once more motioning for Harrison to follow him.


End file.
